


As The Rush Comes

by jaenosmaid (orphan_account)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Bottom Na Jaemin, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Dystopia, Eating Disorders, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gangs, Hurt/Comfort, Kowloon city inspiration, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top Lee Jeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 39,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jaenosmaid
Summary: Electric Station is a city within a city, with thousands of buildings crammed into each other, black fume of factories rusting the walls and people have very short lifetime due to congenial diseases.AU where Jaemin is an orphan who is scared of leaving his home, and Jeno is a dreamer who wants to explore the rest of world. Though, there's one thing, those who leave Electric Station never return.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third time publishing this and I won't give a fuck about hate yall throw. Child abuse isn't painted a good thing, I will never do that, don't come for me. And be aware that this is a fictional work, characters aren't real life idols. This is FICTIONAL FANFICTION thank you.
> 
> Good readings. Excuse the mistakes.
> 
> [this music is everything](https://youtu.be/mrKn_mRKq78)

It was a boring, boring day, as it always had been here. Not even being sprawled in a chair on the rooftop helped, sun coming upon him in golden urns, the noises of crowded city beating in his ears as one. His eyes looked ahead where nothingness laid behind the huge walls, just golden sand of vacancy. They did not know what it was for the reason they never left the city, just some people, like Jaemin's parents, who did the mistake of going outside and never came back. They called it the Waste for there was nothing across and seemed to expand beyond the horizon.

Only light in entire surface was them, the city, which took its glowing facade from the light of hundreds of apartments and shops. Too dense, too ad-hoc, too unrestrained, the low living costs of city contained all kinds of people: from criminals and dreamers to the plain desperate. Fitting so many people into such an incredibly small space meant building upwards, turning this "a city within a city" into a stunningly dense vertical slum. Electric Station was a decaying and downtrodden city built inside a sixty meters wall but still the only thing they had in hand.

Jaemin did not love nor support the enclave, he just was painfully aware they owned nothing but this shitty place. Many dreamers wanted to go outside but none of the leavers returned to this day. Perhaps they found a better place somewhere in distance, from where their eyes couldn't see, hence why they never wanted to go back to Station. Jaemin often wondered if his family also started a new life away from him, never thought of him again, and abandoned him to his fate within wet walls, which would make him angry and bitter. He was just thirteen, and because his family abandoned him behind, he had to work on his own, though that was a little bit of a lie due to some annoying trouble named Jeno.

Dumb little pain in the ass Lee Jeno.

Normally, Electric Station was a largely self-governed city enclave of thousands of people living in interconnected high-rise buildings. There was no law to speak of. This was an anarchist society, self-regulating and self-determining, it was a colony within a colony, a city within a city. Though, there had been gangsters that were constantly at war under the crowded blocks of station, and the head of these outlaws. The crime lords Lee family had established their own form of rule and started to reign over Electric Station like kings. It wasn't that they took care of people's needs, more like, they set up rules, continued the underground prostitution and gambling and evoked fear amongst residents. Nobody would touch them nor their men, everybody would harm whoever Lees pointed at as a tradition of being mindless sheeps. They had the money, the power, the sources and even owned a whole building just for themselves. The one Jaemin was settled on its rooftop right at the moment.

Jeno was his friend, though from his side, it wasn't as dramatic as moon boy tried to make it be. Their rooftop was the best amongst the rest, clean and tidy, and for a reason, smoke of factories did not seem to fly over there: the best of privileges, if you asked him. It was also a privilege to be close to Lees without doing their dirty work or being a child prostitute, which he condemned greatly, but was largely accepted within a society that did not live more than forty years in general due to various diseases. Still, that did not justify what they'd been forcing children to do underground or even more general, marrying kids to live and die early since that their short lifespan.

Jaemin's landlord was a piece of shit, and his son was even worse. To keep his residence, he forced him to work at a factory day and night to pay the rent. Normally he wouldn't care as working really helped getting over distress and overthinking but Jeno had to be annoying, he wouldn't let him work peacefully and instead drag him to mainstream building to be around, just for his sake. Spoiled kids of overpowered gangsters were a nightmare, Mark thought the same too, as he was suffering from Lee Donghyuck quite similarly. But that changed considering Jeno was not just a spoiled kid of an overpowered gangster, also one of the heirs of King of Electric Station. Jaemin chewed on his gum, one that he found in Jeno's room, as he was allowed to take anything he liked that caught his attention.

What was he saying? The low standards of living, of course, would beget the often flagrant violations of law. The general lack of outside support due to unknown isolation led Electric City to be built on itself by itself, with a wild mix of different service, commercial and various other industries mingled into the living spaces of its residents, they produced entirely self-sufficient urban organism. A whole, self-sustaining city built around a huge wall that was as tall as narrow, connected, high buildings. For Jaemin, this astonishing mix of ingenuity and improvisation further deepened the city's isolation and problems, but there wasn't much to considering so many people went out of wall to find a trace of other populations yet there was nothing. Nobody came back to Electric Station and the residents all assumed they were dead, rightfully.

The history of city and its residents were unknown as it'd been going on for centuries, according to their own timezone, and that was enough to safely conclude there wasn't anyone but them on the surface of earth. If there were, they would have been spotted. Residents of Station liked fancy, dark theories about the world isolating them on purpose because they were important people but anyone with two eyes and a sane mind could see they were the lowest of all. Nothing spectacular and superhuman about them, just a bunch of worthless ants toppled on each other.

He spat the gum somewhere, pulling out a lollipop he stole from Donghyuck's pocket, and began biting on it, just for fun. A good way of releasing his inner hatred and annoyance while maintaining his neutrel appearance. He heard the door to rooftop crack open and somebody walk towards him, hands immediately threading through his hair, Jeno's favourite activity for some reason. Regarding the fact that Jaemin was the only one with blond hair in entire station, no wonder his round head drew attention, though it'd been a little greasy since he just returned from a nightshift.

"Donghyuck was looking for his lollipop everywhere," Jeno said with a low chuckle, sitting on Jaemin's lap. Both were thirteen, Jaemin a few months younger, much to his chagrin as Jeno acted like there were years of age difference. Dumb, stupid boy, though his eyes were cute. They were always shaped in adorable moon crescents, his smile never falling off. Why would it? He was the luckiest kid in entire Station, lovely son of his father, little baby brother of Jaehyun and Doyoung, so many people would do everything to be in his place.

"He can keep searching," Jaemin grumbled, narrowing his eyes as the sun lowered in sky, ready to set in a while. He hated sunsets, to see it vanish and leave them to the mercy of moon, because at nights, it was so cold that he generally stayed over at Jeno's room. He also had scarce digital holograms that were only found within his family, an old technologic product other residents didn't even know about. "Get off my lap, you are so heavy."

"Not that much," Jeno rolled his eyes, leaning his back on Jaemin's bent legs. "I said you don't have to go to work but you insist on doing the exact opposite. What's your problem?"

Jaemin bit on the lollipop and stared at Jeno, annoyed of his attitude, sick of his attempts to control his life. Jeno sometimes seemed to think Jaemin was his own plaything, open for him to shape and morph and order. Being an orphan in this city was such an unlucky thing because everybody thought they had a right over you. Pushing Jeno off him, he stood up, tossed the lollipop aside and left the rooftop. Inside Lee building was always the most crowded and loudest, since all the residents came here for a reason, for money, for job, for appointments and for executions.

The city's many tall, narrow tower blocks were packed tight against each other, so tight as to make the whole place seem like one massive structure: part architecture, part organism. There was little uniformity of shape, height, or building material. Cast-iron balconies lurched against brick annexes and concrete walls. Wiring and cables covered every surface: running vertically from ground level up to forests of rooftop television aerials, or stretching horizontally like innumerable rolls of dark twine that seemed almost to bind the buildings together. There were hundreds of alleyways, most just a few feet wide. Some routes cut below buildings, while other tunnels were formed by the accumulation of refuse tossed out of windows and onto wire netting strung between tower blocks. Thousands of metal and plastic water pipes ran along walls and ceilings, most of them leaking and corroded. As protection against the relentless drips that fell in the alleyways, many residents chose to use umbrellas.

Jaemin quickly slipped between sea of people, small and tricky, and jumped down a bridge to head to his own home. Gangways and rusting metal ladders let him move quickly from building to building, before he dropped back down into the darkness. While some alleys were empty and quiet, others overflowed with life, hundreds of factories produced everything. Moving deeper, long corridors offered glimpses into smoke-filled rooms, the incessant click of different tiles echoed along the walls. Gambling parlors lined up alongside strip clubs and pornographic cinemas at underground, at the very bottom of Electric Station. Prostitutes, including children, solicited in the darkness, leading clients away to backroom brothels.

Anarchic, organic, surreal, this enclave was. If it wasn't for Jeno who backed him up at the absence of his parents, Jaemin's landlord was planning to sell him out to brothels as well. He was just thirteen, and there were kids younger than him being raped and abused and exploited down below. He entered his home, locking the door, not that it guaranteed safety against burglars and vigilantes. It was such a small place with two rooms, a bathroom and half-assed kitchen which no longer steamed with food. Both his parents used to be good at cooking and would exchange shifts every night, yet they were long gone. Jaemin did not miss them; if they chose to abandon their ten year old kid behind, then he must have meant nothing, so they also became nothing for him. He opened the packet of a noddle Jeno had brought and quickly cooked it in hot water, perhaps later he would go to Lees for snacks.

With the bowl of noddle, he perched in front of cracked window, looking at the crowded, narrow bridges of buildings all over each other. It was a miracle there was life here, despite no sunlights that stayed way upwards, but even as the high-rise buildings practically merged into monolithic, interconnected labyrinths, people managed to build a life in Electric Station somehow.

The harsh living conditions had partially strengthened the bonds within the community at some cases. Without any official bodies and authorities that took care of them, the inhabitants could often rely only on their families and each other. The loyalty and friendship between each other besides the negative aspects they saw and witnessed but for boys like Jaemin, the truth of this world was ruthless. So were the people, so was him, for his own safety, he may or may have not ignored all the deaths and crimes, closed his eyes and ears to the sounds of violence that rang out within rusty walls. It made him a horrible person for letting it slide but it was the only way of surviving here. The life in Electric Station was surreal, yet so painfully true.

After he had his dinner and decided to take a short nap, he grabbed an old, worn out blanket and leaned against the window again. To jump off quickly in case anything happened, there was a ladder two folds down and he'd practiced to escape with Mark a few times. As he stated before, you never knew what might happen. When he woke up, somebody was banging the door with intent. He knew this cruelty, the son of his landlord, the rapist in short. Approaching the shaking door, Jaemin rubbed at his eyes and yawned deeply, not really in mood to deal with his disgusting ass.

"What do you want, Hyunbin?"

"Open the door, you little whore."

Jaemin rolled his eyes. He was drunk. "I'll fucking call Jeno if you don't go away."

He hit the door so hard Jaemin had to pull away, leaning across the wall, with fear slightly coiling in his stomach. It was no rare that Hyunbin or his father tried to break into his home, punching his door rough enough to crack. They never could, as somebody would drag them away or Jaemin would convince them Jeno and his men were coming for his rescue. It sometimes hurt that the only reason he wasn't raped was because of another boy in power, not because Jaemin was strong enough to kill them, since those men would ever learn to be a human and leave a kid alone. He said it before, and would rephrase it again and again until his death. Everyone claimed their own right over orphan children and thought they could do anything they wanted. There was no protection for kids like him, who always ended up at underground, used for men with money.

"I will fucking kill that small troublesome, Jaemin, and there won't be anyone to take you from me. You hear me? You belong to me, little whore, your parents gave you to us."

Another reason to despise them. They did the mistake of commending their son to the landlord, as if they would take good care of him. Clearly both him and his son misunderstood their words, claiming Jaemin to be their property, to become their whore.

"Fuck off, Hyunbin," he said, kicking the door. "Jeno is on his way right now."

Not that anybody was scared of another thirteen year old; they were scared by the men guarding their master, also the man behind his son: King Donghae, whose name alone was enough to shake the floor and shatter the glass, bringing fear and destruction everywhere his name travelled. Nobody through laws belonged to them but everybody through rules was theirs, the Lees. Hyunbin's departure brought silence with him, and Jaemin slid down the wall, taking deep breaths to compose himself, and tears rolled down in big pearls.

Next day, he ran into Hyunbin, sober and awake, he was eighteen but much bigger and taller than Jaemin. When he took a step towards him, he quickly ran away through ladders and bridges, to the building of King since Hyunbin wouldn't risk being spotted while chasing him. Running into Jaehyun on the building, who patted his head and told him Jeno was upstairs with Donghyuck, Jaemin continue his way visibly calmer. Nobody would hurt him inside Lee borders, he was young master's friend.

Jeno and Donghyuck were playing a card game, their rooms were crowded with many high-tech holograms and digital games that were only exclusive to their family. Nobody else had that kind of technologic products, and Jaemin still was not sure how they worked. Wanting the residents of Electric Station to be buried in corruption and illiteracy, King did not let copying and fabricating of products. This way with nothing to entertain themselves, the residents were left on their own, working hard at factories and being his slaves.

Jeno beamed upon seeing him, springing to his feet and holding Jaemin's hands sweetly. "You didn't come last night, Nana. We had popcorns."

"I don't like popcorn," Jaemin said, passing by him and sitting next to Donghyuck on the couch. Jeno was quick to follow, hugging him from behind, always so eager to be close to him. The troublesome cousin sent him an evil smirk.

"Where is my Markie?"

"Probably jumped off from a rooftop to never see you again," Jaemin stated, not mentioning how Mark had been actually working nonstop for two days now because these children knew nothing about the life in factories. Mark was only fourteen yet in Station, fourteen meant too old. Everyday they got closer to death due to dirty water supply, insufficient food and congenital diseases that came within their birth. When Donghyuck scowled so hard, it did not suit his pretty face, but then again these were kids to become serial murderers soon. Training of Lee seeds began at the age fourteen and after then, they would be yet another vigilantes lurking around. Jaehyun was to replace his father as the King of Electric Station but other children were still just as spoiled and trained well.

He consumed snacks while at Jeno's place, sounds of foodsteps, guns going off, loud laughter and some moans that he greatly despised. It wasn't that Jeno nor his family, at least his parents and brothers harmed children, but lower ranks still pulled prostitutes to different rooms of building. Another thing he greatly hated about this place, the way it was so tight, so intersected that you could not ignore. Everything, every crime, every sin and every abuse shoved up to your face. When it was dinner time, Donghyuck went to find Mark, pretty much to no avail. The patron wouldn't have let go of him before the job was done. Because of Jeno, Jaemin could walk in to his workplace anytime he wanted and nobody would say a word, which wasn't necessary when their eyes spoke louder than bombs. They hated how privileged he was for being master's friend.

"I'm turning fourteen in two months. I will learn how to carry our family's legacy," Jeno dreamily said, wiggling his legs and tangling them around Jaemin's, having changed into shorts as it became too hot. Not even Lees had a solution for the way buildings emitted sunlights and heated way too much, not to mention Station was in the middle of a desert. "When I turn sixteen, I will marry you."

Jaemin rolled his eyes, kicking his shin. "In your dreams."

"Why don't you want to marry me? Aren't I cute enough, my Nana?" Jeno pouted, looking adorable, but that wasn't the case. "Anyways, I know you will grow to accept my proposal. My heart only belongs to you, my dear beloved, and I shall love nobody else."

Jaemin frowned. "Where did you read this from? It's weird."

"Brother Doyoung gave me a book about love poems! Didn't it work?" He sadly sighed upon rejection. "I'll write my own poems for you then. Maybe then you'll see how great my love is for you."

Jaemin found Mark gasping for air in his home next day, hands bleeding from hardwork, side of his neck peeling off from the steam that apparently burned his skin. Remembering first aid rules his parents taught him, Jaemin did his best to treat Mark, who lost his parents way before and had been staying with them since then.

"I should return to work at morning," Mark unconsciously murmured, laying on his left side to avoid infection. He couldn't even open his eyes. "I should work harder tomorrow..."

Next morning, Jaemin locked the door on Mark, attempting to visit Jeno so he would do something about their friend. Though, his body was slammed hard into the door of next flat, his back shivering painfully. Hyunbin was looking down at him with a wolfish gaze, which he detested seeing, because he wasn't a property for these people, he was nobody's playdoll.

"Are you running to your friend at the crack of dawn, Jaemin? Haven't you grown sick of him already? He's just a kid, he can't satisfy you."

He gritted his teeth, looking for a way out with frantic eyes, he could duck him. "I'm a kid too but that doesn't stop you."

"You are mine, Jaemin, there's a difference. I will be your husband and-"

When he raised his hand to stroke his face, Jaemin escaped and ran fast without looking back, jumping from ladders to ladders, passing by flats and bridges like a bullet. Jeno wasn't around, or perhaps he was but finding him in a building where almost a thousand people lived was difficult, so he went straight to Donghyuck's room. The cousin wasn't much needed around unlike King's heirs, as suspected, he was watching the replay of a hologram, sprawled on his bed. A gun went off in next door but they gave little care, sometimes bullets even passed by their heads, they had grown accustomed to living alongside danger.

"Mark is dying!" He dramatically said, for he knew it would work better. Donghyuck stood up with teary eyes and ran out of the room. He called one of the doctors of Lees, poor old woman running after them between buildings, slipping many times but they made it to Jaemin's home safe and sound. The doctor examined Mark and decided he couldn't be tended here, way filthier than the building of Lee that was cleaned regularly. Donghyuck looked around the small home, dripping wet walls, bleak glow of light through factory fumes, and grimaced his face. There was a reason they always met up in their building and that was the reason.

"We will take him to my room," he stated, gesturing Jaemin to grab Mark and help him but they couldn't carry him to the building alone, it wasn't possible and overall quite dangerous. Right then, somebody else entered his home, with a fake decent smile he showed to everyone, Hyunbin offered help, to which Donghyuck instantly accepted and ordered him to take Mark in his lap.

Jaemin ignored the man's gaze until they reached the building, where guards stopped Hyunbin, because he wasn't allowed to enter. Another man grabbed Mark and sent him off, much to Jaemin's joy as he followed Donghyuck to his room through many people that seemed curious about the event. Once inside the room, they laid Mark over his bed, and doctor lady again treated his neck. It was only after evening that Jeno came, perhaps from a meeting with his father or brothers.

"What happened to him?" He questioned, sitting next to Jaemin as his cousin was stroking Mark's damped hair.

"Overworked."

"I'll talk to father then. He won't have to overwork," Jeno said, as if that would change anything. Moon boy grew curious of his filthy side glance, grabbing at his arm to ask what was the problem. The problem was entire system of Electric Station, yet he knew too little to be able to change it, he couldn't, considering the big gangsters that ruled the city, one of them beside him right now.

At night, Jaemin was in the rooftop again, watching beyond the wall they called the Waste because it was void of any sign of life. He looked over Electric Station: the clammy, hot feeling, the deafening cacophony of noises, the damp walls that looked at the brink of collapsing but they would have not collapsed. The smell that fell upon the entire area felt like a new layer of air, the way it couldn't be scrubbed off the body, always burning up your nostrils and your flesh falling at times. Jeno smelled nice but that was only because he was rich enough to shower anyday he wanted, and put on any perfume he chose. Those products were only meant for him and his kin. Jeno had gifted him many perfumes, new clothes and even let him use his bathroom however he wanted. Jaemin was no stupid, he fed from the chances given to him, but also knew the truth about this world and himself.

As bad as it's, Electric Station was their only safe place, there was nowhere else to go. His parents and many other residents that walked out of huge walls never came back, because there was only Waste out there, no life, no plant, nothing. They were lost without the city, and Jaemin did not want to be lost. At least in Station, he had somewhere to sleep, people he was used to, at least there were sounds of life. The Waste scared him away with its eerie solitude and isolation, because it was so vacant, so lonely, it filled him with dreading apathy.

"I want to go on there one day in future."

Jaemin looked at Jeno, who'd discreetly sneaked in, crouched on the floor, eyes glowing with moonlight. "There is nothing to see here."

"You can't know without witnessing it yourself," Jeno said. His face was so beautiful under night sky, so beautiful and innocent, because he truly was. "Perhaps there is life somewhere in distance, at horizon, where our people find too beautiful they choose not to return."

Jaemin tensed up. Sometimes he thought about this possibility too, and he hated it, for this meant his parents truly abandoned him for a better life away from Station. "Or they all get destroyed by sinister things we're not to know. Do you wish to die?"

"We will all die, sooner or later but I do not wish to die before fulfilling my goal of seeing if there's life here." He pointed at the Waste, moon eyes so hopeful, so pretty that Jaemin was left staring. "I will learn what's wrong with this world before my death, even if it costs my life."

Jeno talked with his brother Doyoung about Mark's condition and begged him to convince his patron to excuse him until he recovered. Though he seemed sick of Jeno and his endless asks, his brother nodded and told them they were allowed to keep their friend over there. Mark had to drop his job for how he didn't seem to recover, always stabile, because the disease had already gotten under his skin. Lee's had provided him many privileges but Mark hated it, as he had a hatred boner for them, for his mother who was murdered by one of them. After the death of his mother, his father also passed away and he stayed all alone in this small world. Jaemin's parents had taken him in out of pity, and all of them knew how hard it was to squeeze four people in a tiny flat. Mark and Jaemin would share the couch on living room while his parents had their own bedroom. After they were gone, Jaemin took the bedroom, but they still kept their tradition of sleeping together going on.

Few months passed and Jeno's fourteenth birthday arrived, though Mark showed little progress in his recovery. Despite denying the reality and trying to act normal, Jaemin and Donghyuck knew he was dying. Mark had been sick beyond healing and that was a nightmare on its own because Jaemin had to watch the only person he called family fade before his eyes, getting thinner, sicker, skin too pale that all his bones and veins could be counted. Jaemin sometimes saw Donghyuck cry into Mark's hair at nights, taking care of him with his best ability. But love could not fix anything broken, and best thing they could do for Mark was showing how much he meant for them before he was fully gone. Jeno had begun to be around less now that his training was starting, but he was always there to console Jaemin everytime Mark coughed blood.

"He will be fine," he whispered one night, caressing Jaemin's hair gently, promising him good shiny days but he was way past believing in them. Mark died next morning, they woke up to sounds of Donghyuck screaming and weeping, vibrating the entire building. It was hard to control his own outburst and pull Donghyuck off Mark's body, lifeless but at least at peace. He'd suffered too much over the course of last months, finally he would get to rest somewhere away this hell.

Jaemin cried with Donghyuck as men took Mark's corpse outside to burn, as Electric Station had no graveyard. A grave was not in need because dead people were buried in the hearts of their beloved. Mark did not love Donghyuck the way he loved him back, but it wasn't the matter. He was loved and cherished and would be remembered with a sweet twinge of pain forever. Returning to a home where Mark no longer lived, packing up his scarce stuff and tossing them out was hard, as his legs stumbled, lips wobbling, and the first night spent completely alone in his home scared him more than guns and blades could. Loneliness was terrifying. Having nobody beside you, nobody to look at you, talk to you, smile at you, no matter their sorrow and exhaustion. Only people that were left behind were Jeno and Donghyuck. If he began hanging out with them more, staying over the nights here, waiting for Jeno to return from his daily routines, it was because of a small spark of fear threatening to trap him in solitude. As lonely as the empty sand of Waste. It was almost as if his biggest fear had come down upon him in the worst way possible.

Hyunbin was not willing to leave him alone and as Jaemin grew older, he tried to avoid him more intently. You could never know what these psychos could do anytime, so better be safe than sorry. He hanged out in the rooftop, munching on the snacks he stole from here and there on the building, listening to bullets go off all around the city. Lately it was pretty often that slumped dead gangsters were all over the ladders and bridges. People kicked down the corpses to the point it became a layer of path down below. Thankfully, Jaemin never went down, never needed to. Going down all the hundreds folds of these high buildings must be the dumbest thing, as there wasn't much empty space underneath. Just a path that went up to the wall, and a small area they used for cremation of dead people.

Jeno ran up to him with a big smile one day, most excited Jaemin ever saw him, and held his hand to lead him through endless flats to reach the warehouse at the very bottom of building. It was so cold here for a reason, with many high-tech products that showed the ladders and alleys of Electric Station. It was moving on the screen like holograms.

"What is that?" He asked, dumbfounded. He never saw any of these around.

"Security cameras of the city. They display everything that happens around at the moment." Jeno looked around and leaned in closer, eyes wide with concern. "It's a really, really secret information. Do not ever tell anyone or father may get angry."

Jaemin nodded. They went deeper in the warehouse where a huge black cloak was draped over something huge. With a wide grin, Jeno yanked the fabric, revealing something. What was that heavy and giant vehicle? These looked similar to wheels used in factories for other purposes but he couldn't understand what it was.

"It is a motorcycle that our men have been working on for years to create the right one," Jeno said, sitting on top of the motorcycle as if straddling a horse. It was black and sleek, and giant, in simple words. "First one has been made for me by father's command. I will get to ride it around the city on my fifteenth birthday."

"What is the purpose of this motorcycle?"

Jeno did something and motor sounds he was accustomed to rang inside the warehouse, the wheels turning in their place. It really was working. "It is for travelling. It takes you anywhere you want."

Jaemin looked at him weirdly. Where could he go with this? "There isn't much to go in Electric Station."

Jeno smirked, knowing something he didn't, but kept quiet since it was apparently a very secret information to be learned later. Jaemin saw similar parts of motorcycles all around the warehouse but he also remained quiet. It wasn't his business, yet if they ever showed the residents of city these vehicles, everybody would want one. Though, they were used to be stepped on and silenced, Lees would make them believe they did not deserve having such things. Stepping on the gardens of others to plant your own flowers was a cruel way of ruling but fear always worked best when it came to controlling people.

Jeno was a strange, beautiful boy in a ruthless system. He was a part of the city's strongest wheel, the one who profited from it the most, because he was Jeno, youngest son and brother and everybody just cooed over him. But he looked out of windows and dreamed of exploring the Waste where no one who went ever returned, as if he had a death wish. He definitely had. When they returned to flats, Donghyuck marched the hall with bloodshot eyes and locked himself in the room. Since Mark's death, he'd been totally detached from world and nobody could snap him back to reality. Nobody knew how to help him, a youth who lost his childhood love and friend, who never felt the same for him. He was prisoned to his grief.

Jaemin had reached his fourteen too, even passed two months, and he decided to visit his home one day. It'd been too long since he returned where Mark no longer was, because it was phantom without his presence. He carefully slipped inside, locking the door tentatively. The home never felt like one, but still, it was the only place he could return to when everything else was gone, when entire world was burned down. He settled next to dirty window, looking out at the dark steams and rusty bridges of steel. There really was no space between buildings, no green, no soil, even the earth was way too below.

It'd been years since his foot struck the soil down there. Everywhere else was stones over stones, cold and unforgiving, like an organism that grew around the injury. This whole place was full of nightmares and illnesses but there was nothing to stop it, nothing to end it. If they ended it, they would have nowhere else hide and call home at least. There was nothing else but the Waste outside, full of vacancy and terrors, because unlike other people, Jaemin knew there was a reason to be trapped in Electric Station. Why else would a sixty meter wall would be built if it wasn't to keep people safe and inside?

Whan the doorknob was forced, somebody trying to break in, Hyunbin without a doubt, Jaemin quietly opened the window to jump. He really didn't have the heart to face him anymore, sick of hiding from a serial rapist and molestor that constantly chased him. He successful jumped down on a ladder, running through different passways, knowing where he was going, because all the paths fell to the main building of Lees. Guards always let him inside without a question as if he was one of Lee kids, a close friend of young master Jeno.

Jeno was a trouble. Someone you wanted to get rid of but also couldn't give up on, because he brought so much joy and comfort wherever he went. He'd been too busy lately but sometimes called him to fighting sessions so he would also learn how to defend himself. Jaemin did not refuse the offer as he truly needed to bulk up and take down whoever threatened him, since it was a vital importance in a city like theirs. Spending evenings under the mercy of Sicheng and Taeyong, who were apparently both Jaehyun's bedmates, very skilled in fighting and had the duty to train the little son of King.

"Your brother is a whore for taking not one but two mistresses," he told Jeno once and moon boy choked on his saliva while laughing. As if he was summoned, Jaehyun came in to check on their situation, questioning why his little brother looked like a tomato. Jaemin lied without batting an eye. "I told him he's handsome."

Jaehyun smiled, all dimples and narrow eyes, but innocence of his face shouldn't deceive anyone. He had the body of a wrestler, and was one of the leading muscle forces of the gang as nobody managed to escape from his deadly punches. The hands that killed people tousled Jeno's hair fondly and for a moment, Jaemin hated him for sullying the moon boy. How could he have known Jeno would turn out to be worse than him and anyone in the city.

Jeno's fifteenth birthday arrived with usual fanfare, and his father even gave out free stocks to celebrate the important day. Fifteen was legal age for heirs to get involved with real business of Electric Station, earn a chair in the table and begin to rule the city, lead the gangs and kill the men. For his birthday, Jaemin only gave Jeno a kiss on the cheek but it put the biggest smile on moon boy's face for the rest of morning. When it was afternoon and Jeno was fed up with gifts, he asked permission from King to make his first impression with motorcycle. With Jaemin. Everyone seemed surprised at the fact that he wanted to do it with him at first try yet they didn't refuse, cooing over their little Jeno.

While King chose to watch his son from the rooftop, the brothers and Donghyuck came down with them. Golden boy was getting slightly better, overcoming Mark's sudden death, and Jaemin wondered how it felt to lose someone you so dearly loved in romantic senses. Then his eyes found Jeno who walked ahead with two of his brothers, shivering down to his cores, quickly erasing the thought off his mind, focusing on the road ahead. It was the first time Jaemin ever stepped into earth in years, leaving the mass of buildings behind, walking where empty circle around the wall expanded. It seemed like such a difference from this angle: like a thin line between heaven and hell, but nothing was similar. If Electric Station was hell, the Waste was even worse.

"Sit behind me, Nana," Jeno said, clad in expensive leather, matching with his motorcycle. Though hesitant, Jaemin sat behind, wrapping his arms around moon boy's waist. It felt strange being on top of a literal vehicle, wondering what it could do, how fast it could go. It was soon revealed.

Jaemin could only tell the feeling through one word: wind. It was rare that winds hit the city since it was an enclave of buildings within buildings, no empty space to swirl the wind but when it did, it was merciless. This was how the motorcycle felt as Jeno rode around the walls, the sound ringing in his ears as if to deafen him. It was like having the air on his head, and being vacuumed into a whirlpool. People were watching from windows, and some of them flooded bridges to watch the show, to witness a miracle that Jaemin was experiencing first hand. Jeno stopped where they began, and Jaemin was way too dumbfounded to get off. It was only when older boy grabbed him from armpits and lifted him off the motorcycle easily, he came back to his senses.

"That was amazing," he said. Jeno pinched his cheek, brown hair tousled with the wind that chased them around the city. "Can we do it again?"

Jeno laughed. "As many times as you want, Nana."

They drove again and again, to the point people grew bored and drew away from windows but if they knew how it felt to race with the wind, they wouldn't leave. Just as two of them couldn't stop chasing the feeling of freedom, running alongside it, just one step away from becoming one with it. He could see the wind flare up around the motorcycle, baring teeth and surpassing them in ambitious desires. Jaemin could never forget this feeling, much more different than anything he ever felt, with his moon boy leading through all the way.

That night, they shared a bed together and talked about their experience with motorcycle. Jeno laughed at his exaggerations, earning a kick in return, but Jaemin still ended up joining him out of pure joy. His heart was full and heavy, aching for a memory that did hurt, his mind reeling like it woke up from a long sleep. He asked Jeno how they knew about these vehicles and he said they had found the plans long time ago, though it took years to make one successfully. But who had left the plans for them? Who drove motorcycles beyond the wall and city? There was nothing but the Waste, wasn't it? What if there was?

"I want to ride away with my motorcycle and you one day and never return," Jeno confessed, getting a little closer to Jaemin in bed. His presence and tenacity were not unwelcome. "Would you come with me, Nana?"

Jaemin blinked, turning to look at dark eyes with a low lidded gaze, and despite endless noises of buildings, it was just a silent bubble for them. Would he ride away with him? What did Jeno mean to him? "We don't have to leave. It's our home."

Jeno sighed. "Don't you really wonder what's out there? Where do residents that walk away from Electric Station go? Don't you ever wonder where the sun sets and rises at horizon? Don't you ever think the world does not end and start here and there must be something more?"

Jaemin's heart ached. It wasn't for them to learn about it. They were born into this world, this conditions, this exact life, within this wall that prevented outer horrors from flooding in. If they were supposed to be in somewhere else, they would have been there. The Waste was empty and merciless with no sign of people, nor animals, nor any other thing. It was not even made of green earth that were present at some parts of Electric Station. It was just golden sand, deserted and isolated. There was nothing in the sight, why there would be more beyond the horizon?

"Perhaps there is an end, that's why they never return," he quietly said. Jeno shivered at his cold tone, light of his eyes burning low, dark eyes turning deep pits.

"Can we hug?" He asked, pouting his lips, and Jaemin wondered when they came so far within their friendship. Too many things changed after Mark's death, and he found himself sheltering in Jeno to escape from predators that gawked over him.

They slept with limbs over limbs, arms wrapped around each other, their breaths mingling. First of many nights because soon, they found themselves drawn to each other, no matter the circumstances and situations. They learned how to fight together, and Jeno went with his brothers for secret appointments, though never without little pecks pressed here and there on Jaemin's face. At his absence, he was either with Donghyuck or alone at rooftop, watching the city that grow like an organism. Everyday the air within the city seemed to thicken, the rare gap between buildings closing with newer ladders, the smell worsening as dead bodies incrased in number.

When a stupid dumbass tried to burn the corpses altogether down below, a fire broke out soon, and it took everyone's efforts to put it off. Fire made the smell of corpses even more unbearable, and a brawl started amongst the communities, halls filling with gunshots and gang fights. Guards were increased in Lee building and Jeno followed his brothers to fights, taking down whoever came for the Lees, also going after the leaders that caused uneasiness. Jaemin wasn't taken anywhere, locked in a room with Donghyuck instead, who seemed quite passive aggressive about the progress of events, as if his soul died along with Mark.

"We will not stay here for longer," he said one night when entire city was awake with fights. Guns and bombs ringing off, shaking high buildings, screams filling into small gaps of stones, yet it seemed to have no end. Jeno hadn't even come home for three nights.

Jaemin looked at Donghyuck with a frown. "What do you mean?"

Donghyuck's dark eyes roamed on his face, seeming surprised at the fact that he didn't know about this, whatever the fuck it was. "Master Donghae has produced more than five motorcycles, for riders that will go out of Electric Station to find a source of life somewhere beyond horizon. I will go with the squad too."

Jaemin felt his blood drain out, but thought that was all pretty much in character, considering how badly Jeno desired to explore the world outside. If his father prepared everything in order to go to Waste, nobody could stop him, and it's what hurt the most. He'd begun to develop an intimate bond with moon boy yet he was planning to leave and die at the Waste, to never come back, to rot in lonely sands nobody stepped into. Lee brothers thundered up with their men at midnight, some injured and sore, and they were rushed off to doctors for treatment. Jeno was covered in a man's guts, eyes cold and aloof, ignoring Jaemin's gaze and locking himself in bathroom, to never leave it for the night as younger was perched on the bed. He felt conflicted about current events, the gang fights, the uproar within residents, the plan to ride away from Electric Station to look for any signs of life out in the Waste.

Jeno was willingly heading to his end. Nobody who ever went to Waste returned, how did he expect anything else? What made him so stubborn about the idea of life continuing beyond the horizon? Being a dreamer was one thing, but this was straight up suicide, riding to your own death in the name of dreams. Fucking bullshit. Standing up with anger spiking in his stomach, Jaemin kicked the door of bathroom, yelling at him to get out. After the sound of water went down, Jeno unlocked the door, and there he was. Blood and organs gone, replaced with pearly tears. The heat that was just crawling under Jaemin's skin vanished, replaced by an ice cold sense of worry.

"Jeno..."

"I'm fine," he sniffled, wiping his face quickly, though new tears kept rolling down. Pain was printed in the exquisite features of his beautiful face, same way the moon would be eclipsed by dark clouds passing by. "I just got a little carried away with everything. It was my first time going into such fights, won't be the last, though."

Slowly, Jaemin approached his scarred body and wrapped his arms around his neck to hug him. Jeno was quick to respond by grabbing his waist and pressing their bodies together. For tonight, he could have swept it aside, and he did, as moon boy only needed emotional support, nothing else. They dozed off snuggled close to each other, smell of blood still lingering in air but these were little details. As a friend, Jaemin had to support him, right? As a friend, when Jeno expressed his discreet attachment to him in subtle ways but he was way too coward to decide what he himself was feeling. Perhaps a little time was required.

The brawl in the city calmed down in time and by the end of second week, it was completely crickets. Tired from endless fights and bloodshed, everybody had recoiled, retreating to rest at restless homes. The fuel still burned, though low, but ready for another spark. It was three weeks after that King Donghae gathered his family at a room, halls overflowing with their men and guards, and declared the plan about sending a group to explore outside world. Jaemin's eyes found Jeno across the room, who looked quite enthusiastic rightfully because that'd been his plan since ages. He always wished to go out of Electric Station and finally, he was coming to achieve his dreams, as he was going to be the one to lead the group. His brother Doyoung would be accompanying, with a small squad of comrades including Donghyuck, Taeyong, Johnny and Sanghwa.

The preparations were all done, and the gate that had been closed for years would be reopened for them to ride away. Motorcycles were modified to ride on the sand and Jeno hoped to be the saviour of his family and his city's residents. He was such a stupid fuck. There was no need to save anyone, Electric Station was the only home they could find in the huge, empty Waste. People who left the city did not come back because they were probably eaten or destroyed by things they couldn't even imagine. Their only enemy was themselves within buildings, what about the unknown creatures outside, perhaps? What if there were dangers they were not meant to fight and survive?

"You will not be here when I turn sixteen," he told Jeno at night in the rooftop, countless times they'd been there since childhood, but none of them felt so full before. "You won't return for seventeen or eighteen either. You'll die in the Waste."

Jeno looked away with a guilty expression, for he knew how much Jaemin hated the idea of leaving the city, despite how it was crammed into each other, it was still a home. At least a haven to shelter at times. The Waste offered them nothing, and did not even deign to return the corpses of residents that stepped on the sand. Kneeling in front of him, Jeno grabbed his hands and pressed chaste kisses on each knuckle and for a reason, it was allowed. Sensational brush of his dry lips was pretty, perhaps only thing to be left of moon boy, because the moment he stepped out of the gate, he would be considered dead.

"I will come back, Nana, no matter what, what I become, how I look, I will come back to you. Then I will make you my spouse."

Jaemin swallowed. "Only if you return in my sixteenth birthday, otherwise, I'll never accept your proposal."

Jeno's smile was so big, enough to fit in so many hopes and dreams, yet it was all a lie. The preparations ended in a week, too many food, water and gas stock for the passengers were latched on motorcycles. Six motorcycles for six idiots. The night before they left at the dawn was painful for Jaemin, as he wondered what he would do after both Jeno and Donghyuck died. The life would go on, but he doubted he'd catch up to it with the emptiness where his heart was.

"Give me your bracelet," Jeno told him in morning, having changed into a leather outfit. Unlike his brothers, he was too slender to carry such heavy clothes, too young, just fifteen, heading straight to his death. Blinking his eyes dumbly, Jaemin forced himself to look down at the bracelet, one that stayed from his mother. He would prefer Jeno carrying it as a last part of him at the Waste, before he died. Looping the bracelet around Jeno's wrist, he pinned it with a knot and looked into shiny moon eyes. When the moon darkened in sky and rose a little late, he would know the boy that carried moondust inside of him was dead.

He found himself wondering whether there would be anyone to cover Jeno, or whether his own corpse would lie unmourned amongst the golden sands of Waste, staring blindly at the sky until his flesh fell from his bones.

Cupping his face, Jeno kissed his cheeks, caressing his hair like loving a dainty flower. His breath was like a soft breeze across his ear, whispering the secrets of universe. "If enchanted dreams whisper in my name every night, wake up from your sweet sleep because I can't sleep when I think of you. I will never get tired of imagining you, my Nana."

King Donghae made a speech about his glorious soldiers, and sons, finding supplies for the residents of Electric Station and everyone chanted from everywhere. Jaemin stood by Jeno as the motorcycles were lined up, their riders sitting on top, with helmets that Doyoung designed to protect their heads. He helped him put on his helmet, hands on each sides of its surface, and tried not to think of his dead body while looking into dark eyes. He would wish to remember his moon boy this way, with pretty eyes, even prettier face, and innocence that was a little sullied yet still here. Such purity that did not go well with the theme of their life, but it was the significant part of Lee Jeno, and despite everything, he was so beautiful and wonderful.

"Get ready for our marriage in less than a year," he said, winking, and Jaemin almost let out a sob. Loud sounds of heavy gate opening, just a little so that riders could pass, made them part. With excitement and sadness warring on his face, the expression in those slate, crescent eyes was sweet indeed. He was so happy to be able to finally explore his dreams, yet Jaemin couldn't endure witnessing losing the last part of his broken family. He turned around as motorcycles started working, and didn't watch as they rode through the gates, going away from Electric Station. All stories began same way, by passing through the wall, abandoning the city and never returning.

And it happened this way.

Everybody was too enthusiastic about the trip to Waste, but the hype started dying down as weeks passed, then months. Jaemin was forcing himself to stay in Jeno's room at Lee building but everyday he didn't come, he strayed further from his home. He wouldn't return, and neither would the others. He was charged with so many emotions of longing. The aching need he had for Jeno, his soul gnawing at his throat at the lack of happiness, the fact that they were never granted the joy of reuniting and it happened just like that. The despair, the sorrow, the grief, the little flutter of hope that made him keep dreaming for what no longer could be found in dreams. They were fragile things, in the end, but Jaemin never imagined he would be the one to break so easily over the ghost of a moon boy.

When once he went to his home, he ran into Hyunbin, who followed him inside the flat quietly. Perhaps it was time to teach him a lesson.

"I heard you are prevailed to marry Jeno," he said, making Jaemin halt. Marriage. His sixteenth birthday was in five months and Jeno still wasn't here, would never be here again. When Hyunbin approached subtly, he let go of his pent-up anger and attacked him with all the rage and disgust he'd contained for this very specific man. One punch for each time he cornered Jaemin, threatened him, tried to touch him, hurt him, break into his home, made him sleep with one eye open in case he would come in to harm him. He had no right to make him feel this way, no right over his body and life, yet he saw it all in himself. Jaemin took it all out.

He beat Hyunbin to death, way too skilled in fighting to lose to a street wanderer, yet it was his emotions that led him through. The man was almost beyond recognition when he was done, and Jaemin just pushed him off the window, hearing his body strike the ladders. One less bastard to worry about. Afterwards, he washed his hands, but not before looking at it and wondering why it scared Jeno so much. Perhaps because he killed someone who deserved it.

Hyunbin's father did not even suspect him as his son's murderer, since Jaemin was barely a teenager that was too scrawny. He mourned for his son two days, then forgot about him, keeping himself busy with a new prostitute he bought. Meanwhile, Jaemin looked for a job in factories, finally earning a chance in a noodle factory. Seeing the way the food was made in such rusty, filthy places made him sick and if he started to eat once in a week out of disgust, there was nobody to notice the change within his eating habits and how his body changed. Jeno would have, if he was here, but he wasn't.

Jaemin never visited Lee building again, despite a few times Jaehyun came to check on him, trying to console him but he must pity himself first. He lost two brothers and a lover and it was written all over his face. Two months after, sudden death of King Donghae stirred up problems. He'd died from a disease he'd been fighting for a while now. Since the factories were shut down in the name of King, Jaemin squeezed amongst the crowd in a bridge to watch the cremation of their leader. Jaehyun, having lost most of his family in a short span of time, replaced his father as the new King of Electric Station.

Life went back to normal.

It had never been normal for Jaemin. He celebrated Jeno's sixteenth birthday in his small, lonely room, crying for the moon boy that died and vanished in the golden sands of Waste. The moon sat high in sky but Jaemin knew he was long gone, there was no coming back, no reuniting, no weddings. Once, he went through the passways of city, going down and down where normal residents did not visit, to the underground where a new kind of life was going on. It's a shame to accept it became Jaemin's new lifestyle but often, he found himself in clubs, in a stranger's bed, with a stranger's cock inside his ass.

Everytime, he couldn't stop himself from remembering Jeno, who would never treat him so rough, the way those men did. But he had brought it upon himself, and he actually didn't hate it. It helped him stay away from painful truth of his poignant memories and looking up to the moon that glowed with a boy's smile. Going to work, coming home, sometimes visiting clubs for a good fuck, it became his lifestyle. Inside the flashy halls of underground, he met a boy named Yukhei, just a year older than Jaemin.

He spent his own sixteenth birthday bouncing on Yukhei's lap, Jeno's words ringing in his ear, deaf and blind to anything else except for the dream of him. He became a good friend, one that he even brought to his home and they spent some nights climbing dirty rooftops to have fun. As they spent more time as friends, they fucked less and less, since both had memories of ghosts wandering inside their heads. Yukhei was in love with a boy named Jungwoo, who worked as a prostitute in the most expensive brothel of underground. They had been childhood friends, until Jungwoo was sold by his sisters after their parents died.

"It is painful to watch someone you know so well to their bones change drastically before your eyes," Yukhei said one night, drunk his ass off. "You do not even recognize who you're looking at when you face them. Who is this person, where did my boy go, what did they do to him?"

Jaemin swallowed. Perhaps that was a good thing to not see your beloved become somebody else before your eyes, to bury them in your heart the way they used to be, than witnessing them become complete strangers.

"Do you still miss Jeno?"

He did. But it'd been a year and half, and nothing stayed the same. He wasn't in love with Jeno when he left, only recognized his growing feelings after his departure and that was a dramatic turn of events. Because entire beauty of love belonged to the time it became green in heart, which was full of little suns, warm and cozy. When it ended, the sun would die, the heart would get cold. The leaving of Jeno had fallen upon Jaemin like a night frost, killing everything that'd been starting to come to life. Jaemin was wasted with longing same way water boiled too much it evaporated.

Jaemin had told him, that the Waste brought nothing but death, nothing but misery, and those who left Electric Station were bound to never return. If Jeno cared for him more than his stupid dreams and goals, he wouldn't have left, but then again, neither Jaemin did love him romantically. Jeno had always been a pain in the ass that bothered him, and he sheltered in him in time because he was a good friend who provided him many things nobody else could. Only now Jaemin could see that he didn't stay in Lee building for clean water, tidy rooms and endless food, if it was the case, he would have stayed there even after moon boy left.

Jeno was the lifeline that kept him close and since he no longer existed, there was no reason to stay here. Without him, the light of entire luxury had perished.

The news of Jaehyun's girlfriend giving birth to their first kid became the talk of the town. Two years after Jeno's departure, he was dead the moment he rode away from the city, without a doubt. Jaemin decided to pay them a visit, a sweet, cute baby girl that looked exactly like her parents. Jaehyun kept whispering that she'd become the next leader of Electric Station, that he would raise his daughter best way. After giving the baby to her mother, a girl named Yujin with pretty short hair and smile, they went to the rooftop, the ever place for secret talks since everywhere else was way too crowded.

"She's such an adorable baby."

Jaehyun nodded, scratching at his jaw. "She reminds me Jeno. I still remember the way he acted as a baby, and she's exactly like him."

Jaemin felt the name inflame his heart in a whirlpool of longing and pain. Countless times he would come this rooftop to escape from him, yet Jeno would be right behind, sitting on his lap or playing with his hair to pique his interest. Later as they grew to be mutual friends, they came here together to escape the noises of building or play games, both of them. The way it all stayed behind sometimes still felt like a fever dream, the way he could never again sit here with Jeno, watch the sky, count the stars and smile at each other. Longing for what you lost was the worst feeling one could ever taste, because everything else had a cure, but you couldn't bring back what's gone now.

"He genuinely believed there was something out there, that's why his heart wouldn't fit inside his chest until he got to find out what it was," Jaehyun continued, looking at the Waste with teary eyes. "He had to leave, to fulfill his heart, to silence the voice in his head. I told him that was a path with a dead-end, but when did he ever listen to my words?"

"Perhaps his heart is now full, perhaps he saw what he was looking for."

Jaehyun grimaced painfully. "What did it cost, though? They all died in stranger, empty lands, their bones are probably gone as well. Was all this fuss worth to see the nothingness out there?"

Jaemin went to Jeno's room after the talk, having taken the key of door from Jaehyun, but hesitated before entering. How many times did Jeno hold his hand and pass him through this door? How many times did they sleep in that bed, hugging, laughing, sharing each other's warmth? Did his smell still linger in air or was it gone the way he was? He didn't have the heart to confront the last piece of his moon boy, only thing left from him, because he was dead. He touched his empty wrist, he'd given away his only bracelet. Only thing he was capable of doing was hoping that it helped him during his journey and death even a little.

That night, Jaemin let his mind reel and spin, shoving every little memory of him and Jeno up his face. Words that had been shackled heavily in his chest and struggled to come out of his mouth. He remembered the time Jaemin ran to Lee building after Hyunbin cornered and touched him against his will, crying heartbreakingly, and Jeno held him close entire night. Wiping Jaemin's tears, caressing his hair, promising him nobody could hurt him, nobody could touch him, because he would always be here as his guardian. Would he really hold him through everything? Wouldn't he forsake him?

"I'll hold you as long as it's needed," he'd whispered, too big words for a child, yet it was Jeno and everything he did was out of genuineness.

"Even if it lasts a lifetime?" Jaemin whispered in a low tone, curling his fingers around Jeno's, watching the moon boy nod strictly.

"Many lifetimes if that's what you need. I'll die and reborn from my ashes, right back in your arms."

He shivered with shock, tremors of his body worsening with upcoming memories that he'd forgotten, because it had been so long. Two years since he left, and died, and never came back. Two years were too long for people like them that were born with congenital diseases and lived shorter than forty years, maximum. It was everything for people like them. Nothing was more agonizing than the fact that his love for Jeno now could only breathe in forlorn memories, words left unsaid, and this longing shall never end, as it was his punishment for missing out so many chances. Jaemin was forsaken and abandoned, by the very boy he trusted with all his heart, but still no living person could touch the place a ghost boy had in his heart.

Because it was impossible, he allowed himself to imagine, just once, what it would be like to face Jeno as a man. He had seen him, once charming and lethal, all strong muscles and needling remarks, but he loved the real Jeno with moon eyes and sweet smiles, with innocence crowning his head. His brown hair with perfect locks, serene to thread his fingers through, smelled of lemon and lilacs. How would Jeno look like all grown up and edged sharply? How upsetting that the prettiest boy would never have the chance to grow all big and gorgeous, dying too early, too sudden.

Next few weeks, Yukhei moved to his home because he was kicked out of his own, since he saved up all his money for a night with his childhood love. Jaemin wondered often, wouldn't it hurt the boy's pride, but Yukhei strictly believed his old pretty boy was no longer the same. He had to pay if he wanted to confront Jungwoo and gain the chance of having him for once, sick of watching him from afar, swiveling amongst other prostitute of underground.

"You don't know how it feels to be unknown to your own behaviours with the person you loved for years, for how much they changed and became a stranger."

Jaemin blinked his eyes, perched on beside the window that needed to be cleaned, but lately he didn't trust his own balance to stand upright. Yukhei promised to clean the window after his food, but that was almost a week ago. He almost immediately forgot the promises he made.

"Perhaps it's time to let go," he whispered, much to himself, lighting a cigarette that was crushed on his pocket. Sometimes he smoked, but not so much, since he despised its suffocating feeling that covered his empty stomach. "To move on, we shouldn't look back."

"If there's something you know better than me is the fact that it's impossible to move forward. We are chained to our own, not anyone else."

Maybe he was right, maybe it was really Jaemin keeping Jeno alive in his heart when he was gone, and to get rid of him, he should die as well. He thought over it next days, day and night, preparing himself mentally for a goodbye. What would Yukhei do after he died, though? That dumb boy would be ready to sleep over slumped dead bodies in alleys, just to not lose a coin of his hard-earned and saved up money. He really didn't have anybody else to worry about after Mark, who died too young, and Donghyuck, who also joined him eventually. Cried so much, mourned for too long, yet finally Donghyuck reunited with his Mark at the end.

Jaemin could not kill himself, no matter how much he wanted to end it all. He continued his daily routines, spending his seventeenth birthday at a club with Yukhei. He paid for their drinks so that the lanky guy wouldn't touch his saved up money, burning with passion to see his old, childhood love again. High paid prostitutes of brothels were not seen lurking around, they had bigger customers to indulge, so only way to reach out to Jungwoo was through paying for a night with him. Buying your lover for a night sounded horrible, and Jaemin wondered if it felt equally terrifying.

It happened two weeks after his birthday, when Yukhei was at work, and Jaemin was at home, sitting beside his window and watching three guys fight at a bridge. One of them had spotted him, sending a flying kiss to his direction before another guy took advantage of his distraction and pushed him off. The man's bleeding head painted the entire ladder he fell onto in seconds, and Jaemin looked away with a sigh. Not many changed in Electric Station, nothing could change the violence inside of them. The roots were so deep and dark.

He first noticed the urgent sounds of footsteps, mass of people running through halls, passways and through ladders. Rising on his knees and opening the window, Jaemin frowned at the way everybody rushed towards the East side, where the gate was. A bridge collapsed under the heavy weight of crowd, not a rare sight, but that didn't stop them from flooding. What was there to be so excited upon? He spun his head, looking at the guy that called out his name. A colleague from noddle factory.

"Jaemin! Jaemin!"

"What's happening?" He asked nonchalantly. The man wanted to talk but somebody crashed him hard and he fell facedown. Jaemin pulled away from window, closed it and decided to check it himself, the reason of this sudden rush. Amongst the people, Yukhei's height was easily spotted, and he instantly squeezed in a corner to wait for his arrival. His lips were pursed tight, eyes blown wide with shock and it was the most troubled and distressed Jaemin ever saw of his friend.

He felt the heaviness of words in his heart, digging a pit so deep that he hid all his emotions and memories inside, because it was more than his mind could decipher. It'd been stuck in darkness and obscurity for too long, the moon still shining silver in sky, and the little flutter of hope shattered and turned into thousands fractures of rampant feelings.

"Jeno has returned, Jaemin."

Suddenly a beam of light blew up before Jaemin's eyes, making him go blind. He could have stepped into an abyss and he wouldn't know, but he was already at the bottom of bleak pit. This was him at his despairing and poignant worst. Jeno had returned, it's why everybody was rushing off to outside, to witness the miracle. The return of moon boy who came back after three years.

"Jaemin... What will you do?" Yukhei asked, stroking his cheek gently, only person who was beside him, supporting him through everything, after Jeno.

Jeno. He felt tears blur his sight, pain clogging his mind, and a lump forming in his throat. Even if he wanted to talk, he couldn't, there was no way to express himself through combinations of adjectives. All he wanted was screaming blindly at walls, which was the exact thing he did, turning on his heels and entering his home back. His scream was lost in the boisterous rush of Jeno's arrival, but he hoped right ears could hear his suffering, feel his sensations. He had no right to come back after three years, three fucking years in the Waste, or wherever he was. He had stay dead where he was supposed to be. Why did he return, how did he return? Yukhei didn't try to calm him down as he broke everything, tossing stuff around. After three years of his absence, he couldn't trap Jaemin in his presence, when he still couldn't put anything in order inside his mind. Why did he have to go through this?

He'd drowned in his own pain, lost himself in fusion of longing, and on top of that, he added moon boy's pain to the burden in his soul. He thought of Jeno's back as a mountain he could hold on to, but the mountain had tumbled down, and the love was shot by separation. Jaemin wanted to remain silent uproariously. Someone stop the world, he shouted. Stop the world and don't sacrifice me to the lasting time. I can't carry it anymore. Three years had passed, they were now different pages, different books of a different fate. Their hands bled but they couldn't hold the hands of union. Words of ashes screamed and bustled around, striking the stockade of his mind. He passed out at one point, and when he woke up, it was night, and Yukhei was cooking noddles. Unnerving, damped feeling of grief had sucked him dry, and Jaemin felt boneless from where he was sleeping. The couch. His home. Jeno was back.

Yukhei crouched on the floor, setting down a bowl of noddle for him, but both knew Jaemin wouldn't eat. His mind lingered on the moon boy who returned, his eyes looking out of the window, showing nothing but ugly, crammed buildings and wires.

"Everybody but Jeno died, he is the only survivor," his friend said. "I didn't see him but that's what others said, you know, everybody rushed off to witness his solid presence."

His solid presence, Jaemin had it embedded on his memory without a shame, because the way Jeno made him feel was worth to remember. It helped him quite alot at his absence, and fuck, how was he back now? How did he survive, what happened to others? Why did he come back after three years? His eyes were probably bloodshot, and ached too much keeping them open was alone a war.

"Do you think he still remembers you?" Yukhei asked. "I mean, it's already midnight, and he hasn't even bothered to visit you. Perhaps it all stayed in the past for him."

Fear of being forgotten after years of mourning for Jeno shot up goosebumps all over his spine, shaking his limbless body without a remorse. What if it was the case? Was he someone to be casted aside and forgotten? Perhaps he was. Maybe Jeno exaggerated his childhood love a little too much, and found out Jaemin was worthless enough to forget in the Waste. No one was indispensable.

He dozed off again, and awakened with the sound of his door banging. Ever since Hyunbin was dead, nobody ever did this, and he tensed up with painful old memories for a second. It was his neighbours that were disturbing him, and they were asking about Jeno, Jeno, why didn't he come to see him? Why didn't he go to see him? Jaemin threw a bowl at the door and yelled at them to leave or they would share Hyunbin's fate. He didn't know why he confessed the last part but fuck him, fuck his father and fuck these people.

Jeno was back, and he didn't come to see Jaemin. He dropped his job to stay inside the safe walls of his home, perched on the window to watch outside, eyes straying towards the door but he never came. At the end of week, the truth about Jeno's arrival still remained unknown, Lees had locked themselves in the building and not even a word flew outside, and any tattlers would have been killed. At night, Jaemin decided to climb the rooftop to watch the sky but the scene he saw made him cry. The moon had darkened, silver glow too dim that it didn't even reach the surface of earth. When the moon darkens, I'll know my moon boy has died.

Next day, he woke to the sounds of motorcycle, too close that it scared him, but no, it wasn't close. It was right here. Rolling off the bed, he rushed to the window, shaking because of the loud and heavy motorcycle. He saw other residents were also hanging off windows to witness the scene, flooding to bridges, except one, one that was two folds below, occupied by sleek, bleak motorcycle. When he looked down, only thing he could recognise from the past was familiar shape of dark eyes and brows, but he knew nothing about the fierce, intense gaze of low-lidded, heavy eyes. The moon truly had died, because this man wasn't his shiny Jeno with cute crescents and happy smiles.

This was a stranger, this was Jeno who had to change to survive the life he went through in the Waste. Tapping into his most poignant and painful memories to ignite true power, turning his suffering into his greatest weapon. Jaemin knew everything about scrawny Jeno of moondust, but he knew nothing about this big, wild and hot man. His thighs thick, arms bulging with muscles, gloved hands squeezing hard around motorcycles, yet his eyes were most expressive about who he was, how he felt, as it'd always been.

Jeno watched him without even blinking once, then rode away through the passways between buildings, sound of his motorcycle echoing inside the city, shaking the floors. He'd come to see Jaemin, but never once took of this helmet and left just as mysteriously. What was he trying to do? Yukhei questioned him about what happened today after he came from work, but changed the topic after he couldn't get a respond out of Jaemin. They needed to pay the rent yet he'd quit his job and there wasn't any money left.

"It's alright, I can pay this one," Yukhei said but Jaemin wouldn't let him. He patted his shoulder and passed by, knocking on landlord's door, which was opened by a beautiful woman who's all dolled up.

"I should see the patron, to talk about the rent."

She clicked her tongue. "You are young master's boy, aren't you? Your rent has been paid by him."

Jaemin stared at her. Why did Jeno pay his rent? He rushed off and entered his home, slamming the door shut with anger rising in his chest. He didn't like this new Jeno and his behaviours, despite longing for him dearly, but he should learn what he'd become first. It took his sleepless nights to prepare himself to visit Lee building and confront Jeno, definitely not the easiest choice. Nervous as if he was an ordinary resident trying to get into the borders of Lees, Jaemin was surprised at the change of events. He was hesitant to step on a place he used to go in with much confidence.

It was the sound of motorcycle that woke him up again, but this time it was right in front of his flat, beyond the door. Perhaps that's a stupid thing for his heart to leap inside his chest, but he found himself gasping and sweating. Beads of pearls rested on his forehead, dripping down the lines of his face, his face that changed over the course of three years. Jaemin looked at himself in the dirty mirror next to the door, blond hair chin length, messy and greasy, and there were small sunspots all over his face, ugly and disgusting. It displayed how he'd been lacking self-care. He wasn't the beautiful child Jeno loved, nor Jeno was the moon kid he knew.

He heard loud gasps behind the door but neither his hand nor Jeno's was willing to do a move. He didn't open the door, and the latter didn't knock the door, they just stood at each sides of wall for minutes until Jeno drove away. For two hours, he heard the sounds of motorcycle echoing around the city, jumping from walls to walls. According to residents, Jeno had been driving around the wall. After Yukhei came, Jaemin went to bedroom to change his clothes, pulling out the nice shirt he wore to clubs. It was a little weird it still fit his body but then he looked at himself and noticed the reason. He was too skinny to the point his body had no curves. His waist was slim, so was his torso and legs, looking like a pair of sticks. He had become so ugly in three years.

Swallowing roughly, he took it off and dressed into one of Yukhei's large garment to cover his body as much as possible. Folding the extra cuff of sweatpants, he squeezed them into his shoes, and washed his face with cold water, also wetted his head a little to get rid of greasy look. He pulled his hair in a messy bun and decided nothing could fix the rest of him, as he'd been neglecting himself for too long. Because of his eating habits, small green spots had appeared on some parts of his body, perhaps signs of a disease.

Yukhei eyed him intently and sighed deeply, pulling him in a hug, telling him to do what his heart asked for. The path to Lee building was the longest he ever walked in his life, and by the time he reached the flat to Jeno's room, his legs felt like giving out. Guards shared looks with each other but let him inside, watching him march across the hall hesitantly, almost attentively. Loudness of building hadn't changed even the slightest. When he stood in front of Jeno's door, he felt a string of melancholy washing upon him. For three years, he didn't have the courage to step into this room, and nothing really changed as his feet took him away as if he was touching the fire.

But Jeno was not in the room. Jaemin felt his presence, sensed the tingle of his breath, and turned around with searching eyes. Cause of his problem was here, next to his brother Jaehyun, and other men, but they could not see anyone but each other. This wasn't the moon boy he sent off three years, and it was much more obvious this way, from up close. Wearing a very decent black jacket and pants, chest was bare without a shirt and it showed some of his scars with every little move. How did he earn those scars? They looked like huge maul wounds, as if he fought bears all the time.

But it was so small compared to the change higher up. Jeno used to like his hair long, but now it was too short, merely styled back and exposing his whole face, warred and forged by everything he had to go through in the Waste. His heart ached for the man he just met, a stranger, and for the first time, wondered how he survived out there all alone. While Jaemin was fighting his absence, so was Jeno, at the other side of world.

Jaemin memorized the intense look of Jeno, his fierce eyebrows, rough lines of his mouth, depth of his eyes, another maul scar, three lines of a paw, starting from his left cheek and going down to his throat. When looked closely, his nose was crooked, probably broken a few times, a miracle to even heal with how much damage it seemed to have taken. He could never dare imagining how much it hurt.

"Oh, Jaemin," Jaehyun said, but they didn't look away, frozen, afraid of making a move, as if they were sole illusions that would fade within a breath. But no more daydreams and nightmares. Jeno was back, and they needed a confrontation soon.

"I'll be waiting at rooftop," he stated, voice raspy, shooting one last look at Jeno before climbing staircases.

The rooftop no longer felt same, everything had changed, firstly them, the circumstances, their experiences, personalities. Nothing could be the same anymore. He leaned to the edge, looking at the dark Waste where night sky expanded across, and wondered what possibly Jeno could have lived there to be like this today. He heard strong footsteps of him, striking the floor, but did not get too close. There was a long path between them, and both of them were way too stubborn to take the first step. But they had to start somehow. He turned around, and shivered to his cores at the intense expression on his face, nothing like the bubbly, shiny, pure child he once was.

"Don't you think there are some things you should be explaining to me?"

Jeno leaned against a pillar, his shoulders broad and tight, and his whole body had grown drastically. Still, Jaemin noticed he'd gained muscles, and for that, he needed to eat clean and enough. He couldn't have done all of this in the middle of nowhere, could he? Unless he was living a good life somewhere in the Waste. The possibility gave him goosebumps, just the thought of there being another life, another chance out in the lonely lands he'd always feared.

"There isn't anything to argue. I returned and others couldn't."

His voice had changed, too hoarse, too deep, that Jaemin couldn't even find the fractures of the innocent kid he used to be. His moon boy was truly gone, and nothing could bring him back, not after what Waste had done to him. "You apparently took good care of yourself," he said spitefully, pointing at his body. Jeno tensed up, and if it wasn't for how well they knew each other, Jaemin would have missed it. "Have you fed on the remnants of your comrades, Lee?"

"Go back to your home," he said coldly, but he looked reluctant to avert his gaze. His emotionless, heartless posture got Jaemin too mad, feeling so bitter and jaded that this was the boy he mourned for three whole years. It wasn't supposed to go this way, it shouldn't be like this, fuck.

"Can't you even remember my name? Can't you even spell it anymore?"

"I remember everything, Nana, everything that I don't want to be reminded." Jeno squeezed his fists, but his rage wasn't directed to him. "You should go back to your home, your friend must be waiting."

Jaemin lunged forward and walked on Jeno, but the latter stepped away from him as if he was a disease. That small action had so much effect on him that he couldn't express the shame and sorrow he felt, lips wobbling miserably, eyes tearing up at the controlled, aloof face of Jeno. He wasn't scared of him, but didn't want to touch Jaemin, didn't want to have anything to do with him. He had given up on him, on them.

He quivered desperately in cold air, open and bare, for the vulture to eat him up. He was consumed, wasted, worn out from years of suffering, and that's how he was treated in return. While Jeno nourished perfectly, he could barely eat. While Jeno grew into his body, he dropped to a severe weight. All that suffering for this? To get this in the end? His destiny was so dark, so dark that he lost his way inside of his own heart. Too indignant, too poignant, full of memories. He was all clad in mud and scars, and struggled to walk towards Jeno's hesitant light, yet never gave up on him.

Being swept aside as if he wasn't even worth a simple explanation hurt more than seeing Jeno's dead body would have. Now burden of rejection dappled his shoulders, and Jaemin felt himself bury down and down, until no moonglow touched his face. He wanted to run away from the moon and its cruelty, feeling like there was an empty space within him where his heart was seconds ago.

"Nana, go back to your home for now," Jeno trailed off, chin high and arrogant. He was strong, powerful; everything Jaemin couldn't be.

"Don't call me Nana again." He shook his head with spite, so bitter, so mad. "It's for my friends to call me and you're not one."

Jeno didn't even bat an eye. The intensity flooded between their eyes, setting up a fire no rain could put off, and that was their punishment. Everything had changed, he could see it clearly now. He remembered Yukhei's words, seeing somebody you knew so well change so drastically, being unsure of yourself upon facing them, and realized how right he was. Witnessing this stranger, seeing how he killed the moon boy, replaced him with this vindictive, repulsive man disgusted Jaemin.

"Why did you pay my rent, by the way? You're the one who should be staying away from my business," he said, gritting his teeth, to stop tears from falling.

"It's just a rent." His eyes were unforgiving as they looked up at the moon. He had lost his purity. "You have done so much for my family, it's just a repay."

"Who fucking cares for your shitty family? I couldn't care less if all of them died one by one. I only- I only cared for you, once, and clearly it had been a mistake."

Jeno looked unimpressed. "You should return," he repeated, and Jaemin wanted to cry so bad. He was a man of his regiment, sharp edges, unforgiving eyes, knuckles firm and ruddy, body scarred and broken.

"Do not come to my home again. I'll know it when you do," he threatened, though his voice cracked pitifully. Before passing through the door, he shot one last look at the dark eyes, ignoring the way Jeno rubbed at his wrist, the one he had put on Jaemin's bracelet. "Why couldn't you just stay dead? I wish you had died with the rest of your comrades."

Jeno seemed to enrage at that one. "Do not speak of things you have no idea about. I wish the same too, more than you can imagine, but life doesn't happen the way you want it."

"Fuck you. This is your graveyard for me!" He pointed at the Waste angrily. "You died there. To me, you are gone. Entirely."

It really was Jeno's graveyard, the innocent, moon eyed boy with cutest smiles and sweetest touches. What had happened to him? Who massacred his moon and brought this stranger to replace him? Nobody could ever replace the memory of his moon boy, it would forever stay in his heart, and even if it'd fade, he would remember him for the way he used to be. Not this, never this. Halfway through the ladders, Jaemin broke down, dropping on his knees to flow his tears to dark, slumped floor. The world long stopped turning for him. Jaemin's breath stuck in his throat. Is it shrill that I feel? Is it agony that blooms across my stomach? Is it disappointment that spreads along my veins? His eyes knew vacancy by heart, this nothingness was familiar, it's him, and emptiness sucked his soul deep in. His existence was just as invisible. It was so dark he kept tossing here and there and making a mess of himself.

He was was full of misery. A man with brown hair and dark eyes cut his skin with cruel words and shed his blood, drowning him at the abyss of pain. Three years of suffering and longing for this, not even a hug, not even a recognition. They'd become strangers to each other. Jaemin was forgotten like he meant nothing, as if he was a mere memory to toss aside. His breath hitched, his chest aching. Pulling his knees to himself, hands trembling where they were clenched on his legs, Jaemin squeezed in a corner. The agony he felt had evolved to something else, something so tangible and physical. His heart touched the fire and burned down to ashes, it's like he's dying. His pain was much bigger than his body, his entire presence was a garden, he's a neglected, unweeded, unmown garden of misery and longing.

He didn't know when he got lost in the moon eyes, when the torch of love fell onto his heart, when it seeped into and sprouted with full of life. But it long melted, wilted, and remained a grey, dull garden of abandonment. In the middle of a desert, Jaemin was living the winter, despite having his spring inside same borders. He had nothing to do but accepting the truth. Nothing was the same anymore. Jeno was back, and he was a stranger but it wouldn't end this way. It couldn't. Jaemin would teach him he wasn't a ragdoll to play and throw aside. Wiping his warm tears, becoming aware of how vulnerable he must have looked, Jaemin grinded his teeth, with determination thundering in his eyes.

He was not giving up on what belonged to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> excuse the mistakes!!

Jaemin spent next few days in his home, watching out of the window, in denial of what to do, what his next move would be because he wasn't planning on letting Jeno go. He needed answers, at least, a reason for why he was acting this way. It made no sense, the moon boy whose last word was about their marriage was gone, but why? After years of mourning, Jaemin couldn't swallow the fact that he was discarded and casted aside as if a nobody. He wasn't a nobody, not for Lee Jeno. Yukhei tried to entertain and console him, cooking him noodles, bringing him stuff he found around but he was detached from outer world, lost in the warzone that was his mind.

He still heard the sounds of motorcycle around the wall, but never inside the buildings. As Jaemin warned, Jeno did not come close to his home again, which also hurted because his clingy moon boy wouldn't leave him alone despite countless warnings. Why did everything have to change so drastically? At nights, he climbed rooftop to watch the sky, to see a glimpse of Jeno on the surface of moon but it'd been long darkened, nothing could light it up again. He argued with landlord about the rent, insisted on paying it but the man was quite scared off, he could never accept the money.

"Do you want him to kill me?" He'd hissed, shoving him away, eyes of fear. "He's not the kid he used to be, dumb boy, he's a man who survived the Waste. I will never make the mistake of crossing his path."

A little snapped out of his inner conflicts, Jaemin only began to notice the rumors and whispers going around amongst residents. Everybody regarded Jeno too highly for returning to Electric Station, for surviving out there and being the only one to come back. In the past, he was a kid whose family was feared, but now he was a man who evoked fear on his own. This was truly not the world he used to live in. Everything had changed and it pained him greatly for how unclear the reason was. Even after Jeno returned, Jaemin was still trapped in his grief, and he wasn't even regarded. Nobody gave a shit about him.

He went to talk to his patron while Yukhei was at work, begging to return to his job but the man was reticent. He refused precisely and told him to go back to his home but Jaemin was in wonder. Workers were needed in the factory and he used to be a good, disciplined one, just because he didn't come for a while wouldn't mean his departure. Then an ember dropped on his heart, burned him in the ring of suspicion, and he slammed the man against wall, choking him roughly. Hidden strength within his thin bones was untouched yet as effective as before. He killed a man with bare hands before, he could do it again, nothing was on his way.

"Is it because of Jeno?" He asked, spitting at his face. "Fucking tell me the truth, you bastard. Did Jeno order you to discharge me from my job?"

The man looked around in dread but the little nod didn't go unnoticed by Jaemin, who let him go and turned on his heels. Perhaps he was still the old Jeno, for the way he tried to intrude and control his life. He was going to teach him a lesson. If he couldn't work, Jeno would see how he was spending his spare time. At night, he told Yukhei to get ready for the club and changed into his nicest outfit. Silk shirt and dark slacks, after a moment of thought, he took off the slacks. The shirt was long enough to cover his thighs, looking like a dress on his body. His friend's eyes widened at his appearance, telling him that was a bad idea, but Jaemin couldn't care less. They both had overstepped boundaries.

"At least wear shorts underneath," Yukhei whined. "It's a dangerous place, Jaemin. And what if Jeno doesn't give a fuck and show up?"

He shrugged, nicely braiding his hair, ignoring his purple eyebags and sickly skin. "Then I'll simply have fun myself," he lied. Entertainment was a suspicious stranger to him after Jeno's return, which used to be his emotional support during his absence. He made sure everybody saw them going to a club, which kind of was impossible not to considering what he was wearing, but those freaks always looked at him same way no matter the clothes. A rapist was always a rapist.

"I hope he fucking comes and pays for our drinks too," Yukhei said at the club, squeezed together in a corner. Jaemin nudged his arm.

"What if Jungwoo doesn't want you?"

Yukhei halted, playing with his drink. "I won't force him for anything if he doesn't want it, I can't, but there's a flutter of hope in me that wishes to be welcomed in his arms again. You know?" A pained smile. "Hoping and dreaming have been the only things I'm allowed to have after him."

Jaemin hated how deeply he understood him, because it was the same for him, too. After Jeno, all that left of him was his dreams and illusions, his sweet voice, his moon eyes. Sometimes he'd even dreamed of meeting hum in another dimension, both grown men, yet nothing could prepare him the the reality he was living right now. As hours passed by, nobody came, and Jaemin finally averted his gaze from door to focus on dancing people. Perhaps he really was exaggerating things, maybe Jeno just pitied him after seeing his condition: ugly and scrawny. It would hurt more than bullets, and Jaemin didn't want it, didn't want to be memorised only for his wrecked situation. He deserved better than earning pitiful remarks and forced decency, he deserved to have all of Jeno after he was forsaken and left all alone.

When a boy, young and pretty, grabbed his waist and told him to come backroom, he accepted. Yukhei yelled after him but Jaemin was empty. He didn't feel anything as his body was tossed over the bed, shirt folded on his chest to expose his bottom, hearing the disgusting grunts of boy as he fucked him. He was treated like a prostitute, fucked and left behind, cum still in his ass, shirt folded upwards. Laying limbless on the bed for a while, he only gained consciousness as loud screams rose from the club. Jaemin quickly stood up, pulling up his underwear, and just as he rolled down the shirt, Jeno thundered inside.

Jaemin leaned against the wall with shock, looking at harsh gaze of dark eyes and tight twist of Jeno's jaw. He also halted, looking over Jaemin's entire frame. Sounds still kept going, but they were only focused on each other. "What are you doing here?" He asked upon finding his voice, smoothing his shirt just to show off. Jeno pursed his lips, looking into his eyes, oh. His gaze was hooded, dark and ruthless, but for a reason Jaemin wasn't the target, and he couldn't be anyways. They both continued their lives, right?

"Aren't I allowed to visit clubs?" Jeno deadpanned.

Jaemin straightened up, sending him an insulting look. "I should ask you one thing, am I allowed to work or do my own thing? You threatened both my landlord and patron."

"I didn't."

"You're still a bad liar," Jaemin hissed. "I told you to stay away from me but if you don't, I shall respond back same way."

Jeno narrowed his eyes but didn't fight back, though his intense gaze lingered on Jaemin's bare legs a little. "Your friend is beaten, go keep his company," he said, pointing outside. Fucking Xuxi, what did he do again? Jaemin rushed to Jeno, the floor cold under his feet, and just as he was about to leave, he spoke again.

"You didn't wear your shoes," he said, and Jaemin stared. That's why the floor was cold, his feet were bare. When he didn't move, Jeno sighed and walked away, bending down to grab Jaemin's shoes and shoving it to his chest. Quietly, he put on his shoes, though his eyes were focused on the boy that hovered next to him.

He had the time to scrutinize his visuals, and his heart skipped a beat at how handsome and pretty he had grown to be. Years took Jaemin's everything, but Jeno blossomed like a desert flower in the Waste. It was so discouraging to witness the fact that while his life went downwards, Jeno's seemed to go upwards in terms of growing up and improving himself. While Jaemin was chained to the spot Jeno left him, the latter moved forward on top of his motorcycle. After wearing his shoes, he turned around and walked away fast, but Jeno was right behind. His presence couldn't be avoided. There had been a fight in the club, seemingly, and few of Jeno's men were holding Yukhei whose nose and lip bled.

"What have you done?" Jaemin asked, cupping his chin and examining his injuries. They weren't so bad, he could treat them at home.

"Wasn't my fault," Yukhei hummed, drunk and wounded. "But your moon came for my rescue."

He punched his chest, cheeks blushing, god, Yukhei was insufferable while drunk. He'd embarrassed Jaemin in front of Jeno, who quietly watched the scene, his intense eyes a burden on the blond that squirmed uncomfortably.

"Shut the fuck up, idiot. We're leaving."

"Thank you for paying our drinks!" Yukhei waved at Jeno, who raised a brow at his attitude. Jaemin yanked at his arm and forced him out of the club without looking back, ignoring the way he felt sinister eyes following him.

"Tell me what happened," he told Yukhei while climbing the ladders.

"Ugh, one guy was talking about Jungwoo, then I beat him, then his friends beat me, then Jeno came in my defense and asked where the fuck is Jaemin."

His heart leapt inside his chest. He had come for Jaemin and was curious of his whereabouts. "You still haven't learned not to mess with guys at clubs. Look at your bloody face."

"I feel it sting," Yukhei whined. Jaemin opened the door and shoved him inside, though, just before stepping in, he saw a man from the corner of his eye. One of Jeno's men, watching over him, thinking he's hiding well behind a board. That night, after treating Yukhei's face and lulling him to sleep, Jaemin perched by the window with a feeling of melancholy paining him. He couldn't put a finger to Jeno's behaviours, what was the reason of his actions?

Few more days went similarly, with Jeno riding around the city, Jaemin looking for a job at factories, and Yukhei trying to convince him to come with him the day he would pay for a night with Jungwoo. He really did not want to witness such a dramatic moment but his friend was such a stubborn stud, so he was forced to accept. When Jaemin was rejected by every factory he applied, he was quite pissed off, gritting his teeth at Jeno's audacity. He would show him what it meant to intrude his business and try to control his fucking life. That's how he ended up going to Lee building, let in quietly like good old days, but was informed Jeno was in a meeting with his brother.

Jaemin knew how to distract him. He went downstairs, to the warehouse, and Jeno's scary, bleak motorcycle was glowing through the dust. He looked at its settings, knowing how to ride it from having watched Jeno a few times. Guards seemed in dilemma to whether stop or let him, and he used it in his advance to pull the motorcycle outside. Dragging to the East side, to the gate, where Jeno left him and didn't come back for three years. Putting on the helmet and sitting atop the vehicle, Jaemin felt like being one with spirit of moon boy again, because this motorcycle had been his only comrade in the Waste. It had a maul on the front, too, pushing him to wonder what kind of things Lee had faced in the Waste.

That wasn't the time for it, though.

When the motorcycle began working, Jaemin felt himself vibrate with how powerful it was, and his chest swelled with thrill. He rode it with much difficulty, almost hitting the wall, but learned everything quickly. Riding a motorcycle was harder than he thought, but he was no shrewd, nor would be embarrassed in front of Jeno. He took a stroll around the city, the wind chasing him the way sun would chase the moon out of sky at mornings, trying to take over the race. The wind was important, but the earth was Jaemin's world and nothing could take him down. Residents must be in windows watching him, perhaps even chanting for him, or simply sick of their shitty love life.

When he came back to East wall second time, he saw Jeno and Jaehyun blocking the path, and decided to end his show, though the motorcycle wasn't stopping. His mind fogged up with worry as he drove right over Lee brothers, Jaehyun running out of the scene in a rush, though Jeno stayed. He stayed behind to lunge forward and grab Jaemin tightly, rolling him off motorcycle. As they were thrown to the ground, the vehicle hit the wall, fume steaming in black hues. He felt a moment of blacking out, but he didn't slam his head or something, as Jeno had protected his body with his own. He looked at him with hooded eyes, side of hisÂ bleeding, and grew concerned out of instinct. When their eyes met, it was harsher than the wind, the tension between them was heavier than the air.

"You touched me," Jaemin said, a mocking tone to his voice. "Hopefully you didn't catch a disease, Lee."

Jeno grimaced with pain, pulling away from him. "Your razor tongue is already enough, Na-."

"There's no Nana for you anymore," Jaemin hissed, cutting off his sentence and sprang to his feet. Jaehyun was doing a damage control to motorcycle but it was long gone, for a moment, he imagined himself on top of it, striking the wall so hard he would probably die. Jeno had saved his life but it wasn't important right now, his reason to be here was entirely different. "You will give my job in the factory back, do you hear me? If you don't, I will bring the city upon your head."

Jeno scowled, probably having to talk to him despite wanting to be detached, which hurt him ever so badly. He watched him stand up with agile limbs, thick, big muscles that he'd grown outside Electric Station. How did this man survive and others all die? Jaemin wasn't even given simple truth of events, not even taken serious to be discussed shit. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, eyes piercing through Jeno's skull, wanting to both beat and kiss him, because he deserved both.

"You aren't qualified to work," he said, wandering his eyes on Jaemin, making him freeze on his spot. He felt too bare under his gaze, but how he looked wasn't important, the way he thought younger wasn't capable of working because of his condition was just too cruel, too strange. His moon boy would have never done this to him. "It's better for you to stay at home and rest, I will send you money if it's necessary."

Jaemin blinked once, tears spilling, crying genuinely in front of Jeno after three years, because the way he was treated so horribly made him feel useless. Lee halted upon seeing his tears, and dilation of his pupils was too familiar, but rest of him was too strange, too unlike. Throughout long years of their friendship, Jeno had never made him cry, not even once, not even out of childish envy and anger, he would never do anything that could possibly harm Jaemin. But this man? This man had tied a rope around his neck and kicked down the board, then even dug his grave to bury him in, he was that cruel.

"You don't fucking know anything about me," he said through tears and sobs. "You were gone for three years, and only heaven knows what I've been through. I never ever broke neither will I ever, and you have no right, in no position to talk over me and decide on my behalf and expect me to stay silent."

"Jaemin-"

"You forgot me! You forgot everything, you discarded everything, you turned me down, you had me mourning for three years yet I was treated same way with rest of these people!" Jaemin clenched his jaw, ignoring how Jeno had been startled, stepping away with a look of pain. He should be the last person to suffer. "Do you think I'm ugly now? That I'm weak and useless?"

Jeno shook his head, like a device that'd been stuck. "I didn't mean it, Jaemin, you look so tired-"

"It's not your business! How I look, how I feel, what I do shouldn't be your business after kicking me out of your life, do you understand?" Jaemin yanked at his hair, dropping a handful of locks, making Jeno stare at his fallen hair, the way it shined in dark floor. "You died for me three years ago, and my Jeno never returned, he'll never return, because he's gone."

"I'm not dead but I wish I were," Jeno said, twisting his jaw, shooting his brother a look, who stood in a corner silently. Jaemin watched Jeno rub at his nape and throw his shoulders back, swelling his chest, not accepting an ounce of guilt. "I apologize for my behaviours, you are right, I have no place in your life. I'll talk with your patron, also the landlord. You can do whatever you want."

Jaemin wiped his face with the fabric of sleeve, noticing how dirty it'd gotten, noting to do laundry with Yukhei tonight. He couldn't stand here in Jeno's presence anymore, he was impossible to understand, and he was too tired to fight back. Passing by his tall body, he quickly made his way to the city, jumping from buildings to buildings, running across the ladders of blood and fumes and garbage. Residents watched him quietly, probably pitying his situation, and he fucking deserved it. The man turned him down, why was he still dwelling? His years of mourn and suffering was apparently nothing and he couldn't make anyone love him, couldn't dig a place for himself in someone's life after being kicked out.

Why did it hurt so bad then? Because it was Jeno, it'd always been Jeno, his moon boy, shiny little crescents, pretty smiles and sweet voice. Saying goodbye to someone with wedding promises and not even being acknowledged in his return was so humiliating, even though he'd thought of marriages to be stupid. How embarrassing that he ended up loving him more than anything, after going through a stage of being nonchalant to Jeno's existence. After Mark's death, he'd grown way too attached to Jeno, only to be abandoned and forgotten by the very person he called family.

"I hate seeing you cry and that's all you've been doing lately," Yukhei commented, pouring beer for him. They were settled on the couch together, Jaemin wrapped in a blanket, legs tucked between Yukhei's. "As long as Jeno is here, you'll never be free of his ghost."

"Go kill him then," he said weakly. Yukhei snorted.

"I saw him punch one of the guys at the club, I'll prefer getting my limbs eaten by wheels at factory rather than earning his wrath."

Jaemin frowned, but that wasn't abrupt. Jeno, the boy who had a mental breakdown after committing his first murders, had to change and evolve to survive the life in the Waste, though it really was an interesting one. If he had the chance to eat perfectly and get all buffy, it couldn't be so bad, but then again, the scars on his body and even the motorcycle said otherwise. Jaemin could only speculate theories and never know the truth unless Jeno told him himself, and he was stubborn to learn it. He had to learn the reason of being forgotten and forsaken.

They went to laundry that night, and Jaemin fell asleep while waiting for machine to stop. When he woke up, Yukhei was pulling out their clothes, and they headed back to their room. He strictly avoided some of the residents that looked out of windows and doors and questioned the relationship of him and Jeno, hating the fact that his entire life was open for these people to see but that was pretty normal considering he was a Lee. He restarted his work at factory, but it was different, as Jeno was back and everybody knew the weird tension between them, so nobody crossed his way. His shifts changed quite often and sometimes he didn't even see Yukhei at home, but they managed to come together sometimes.

The big day was next week, when they would go to Jungwoo's club and Yukhei would make his move. It still was a bad plan for Jaemin, as he couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would be for other boy, to be paid for a night by your old childhood friend. But maybe Yukhei really needed to do that and see the consequences, or else it'd explode inside of him. Sometimes it was better to let it out despite how badly it'd return you. Jeno had been quiet since the incident, probably fixing his motorcycle or something. Jaemin really destroyed a motorcycle that survived three years in the Waste, but he had little remorse for that. He had it coming for a while now.

One night, when he was returning from work, he saw a beautiful girl, obviously a prostitute, and two Lee guards walking down the ladders. He stared after them, seeing the way the girl limped and grabbed her waist, and gulped dryly. Only Jaehyun or Jeno would pay for such expensive prostitutes, and considering the first was now father of a baby girl, it was clear who called the her. He knew he shouldn't get possessive or jealous, as Jeno literally busted him right after a sex session, but god, it annoyed him so much. The fact that a stranger girl got to touch and feel his body, his lips and his cock almost drove him insane, because he deserved the privilege. It should have been him, from the first day his boy came back, but everything just fell upon him. If he didn't even get out of blankets rest of day, despite Yukhei's countless begs, it was because of Jeno. Fuck him. It would be nice to fuck him.

Two days later, when both of them were at home eating noodles, the door was knocked. Yukhei got up since he was closest to door just by an inch, and seeing Jeno behind the wall made him go taut on his spot. Dark eyes were directly looking at him, acting as if tall guy wasn't even here, standing awkwardly.

"May I come in?" He asked, raising a brow, and looking so handsome. Jaemin almost choked on his noodle, setting down the bowl and wiping his mouth quickly. Why the fuck was he here? After his little nod, Jeno passed by Yukhei, and despite being shorter, his presence seemed to be unreachable. Looking around the home, the walls, the couch, the window he'd seen many times in the past, but everything had changed since then, he took in the entire sight of his small place. Then turned towards him with a low gaze.

"It's Donghyuck's shirt," he said, looking over Jaemin, face twisted with a hint of melancholy. "Do you still hide them?"

"Why are you here?"

Jeno rubbed the back of his nape, but his stance was so powerful, nothing could bring him down. Even the Waste couldn't. "Jaehyun is throwing a big dinner tomorrow for the birthday of his daughter and wants you to come as well."

Jaemin and Yukhei shared a glance. "I'll pass," he said, looking down at Jeno's wrists but they were covered with fabric. Was he still carrying the bracelet or had it been long since losing it? Perhaps he threw it away himself, for not wanting to remember him and their friendship. "My friend will stay behind if I go."

"It's totally alright," Yukhei instantly cut in, winking at him discreetly. "Turning down King's offer would be such a disrespect."

Jaemin chewed the inside of his cheek, eyes not straying from dark ones, and let out a sigh after a moment of staring contest. "For Jaehyun," he stated, not quite a lie.

"I thought you couldn't care less about my family."

He narrowed his eyes dangerously, shocked at his audacity, because his moon would never talk back to him. "Whatever," he grinded his teeth. "Thank you for the offer. You didn't need to come here yourself, though. Don't do it again."

Jeno subtly looked between him and Yukhei, his gaze scrutinizing, then it all dawned on Jaemin. He was here to see if there was something between them, fucking hell. If both of boys looked at him weirdly, when he burst into laughter, he didn't give a fuck. It was so dramatically funny, the way Jeno acted, after all the shit he himself did and caused, sullying their relationship from first-hand. He probably didn't even understand the reason of his own actions, literal dumbass. That's why he shouldn't give up and go after what belonged to him, there must be a reason to all this. When his outburst came to an end, he stood up, levelling his gaze with Jeno, who was watching him with full attention, as if he couldn't endure missing a moment of Jaemin.

"I will be unable to bring gifts though," he said, sickly sweet and annoying. "Perhaps you can buy one on my behalf since you seem to butt in all my business."

Yukhei snorted, though immediately silenced as Jeno shot him a look. In those dark eyes, where the moon had abandoned long time ago, was only utter darkness. Through his reflection, Jaemin saw a young boy who had to see the deaths of his comrades, including his brother and cousin, get tough in order to beat the Waste and its horrors. For the first time, Jaemin witnessed what they'd done to his moon boy, how they massacred him, trapped him in a sheer armour of trauma he couldn't rip out. But Jeno brought it upon himself, being a dreamer, he wished to step on sinister sand nobody survived before.

Sometimes dreaming was harsher than reality, and Jeno didn't know the line he'd stop before getting lost in the Waste. And it cost him everything. After Jeno left, they climbed a rooftop for fresh air, as fresh as it could be in Electric City. Jaemin stared out into the Waste and imagined what everybody saw there, beyond the sand and vacancy. Considering the scars on Lee's body, nothing good. There truly was a reason they were trapped inside the wall, at least a safe place from outside world, and he wondered how everybody failed to see that. Why would anyone lock a bunch of idiot people within a sixty meter wall? They were obviously trying to protect them.

Next day, he was completely wasted and tired, went to work early and came back late to prepare for the dinner at Lee building, though it wasn't anything remarkable. He just washed his face, changed into loose sweatpants and shirt, then marched across sticky, narrow ladders of enclave. Everyday Electric Station seemed to get worse, darker and smaller, to the point that you couldn't stand a chance in case all the buildings tumbled down. Just left to die under all the debris since entire city was a labyrinth of buildings crammed into each other, a city within a city. When he showed up at the glorious dining room, they'd already begun, and stared at him in surprise of his arrival. Clearly they weren't informed well.

Jaemin wished to go blind at the moment, because the moment he saw Jeno, he felt his blood erupt violently. He fucking had flashy blue hair. A freaking blue hair that'd look hilarious on somebody else, but suited him so well. Maybe the dinner wasn't a good idea at all, because how was he supposed to go on with his life after witnessing the most handsome boy in blue hair? That was a crime, and if it wasn't, it definitely should be.

"Jaemin, welcome!" Yujin exclaimed, waving a hand to him, from where she sat next to Jaehyun. Their daughter Yena was settled on her father's lap, spoon-fed by King of Electric City himself. Dark eyes followed him as he walked forward, pulling a chair and slumping down without much care. He was exhausted yet curious, trying to ignore Jeno that sat crossways, his blue hair drawing all the attention and boiling something deep in his stomach. Hair dyes weren't much popular in the city where achromaticity ruled, and if you stayed at bridges or ladders between halls for too long, you could end up painted in dark hues since all the stinky fume travelled inside the buildings. It was impossible to escape the wrath of unforgiving destiny.

The dinner was boisterous, family filled with new recruits, and seeing the way Sicheng, still Jaehyun's bedmate, taking care of his daughter and wife at the same time, was a little strange and gross, but undeniably had a funny side as well. Jaemin did not finish his plate or wine, despite how much he used to love and consume the food of Lee cooks. But now, seeing so much food on a single plate made his stomach twist in disgust. How could somebody eat so much in one sit?When he glanced discreetly, Jeno would be focused on eating or whatever his friend Chenle was saying, but at times, he would look up as if having felt his gaze. How painfully upsetting that it was all a familiar setting, similar circumstances, but things couldn't be more different.

Three years ago, they would sit on this table, eat together, chat over dumb stuff and decide what to do in next couple of hours. The way their relationship came apart so drastically broke him, it personally offended Jaemin, because he'd given the moon boy his everything and all he took was a big ass nothing. A zero. No matter the reason, Jeno had no right to treat him so bad, kicking him out of his life, when he used to trail after Jaemin like a lost puppy in the past. He used to love him, but all their old emotions wilted in a neglected garden. They stayed apart for so long that they learned how to stay away from each other, an obligation becoming a routine, that's what hurt the most.

Jaemin couldn't even say he couldn't live without Jeno, because he did, but at the cost of an empty, barren three years of suffering. Only thing his absence gained him was Yukhei, and that didn't say much on its own.

To breathe fresh air, Jaemin went upstairs, to the rooftop that he was painfully familiar with. Sitting on the edge of stone, he looked down at crowded, complicated ladders and paths of crammed buildings, looking like a big spider web. If he jumped off, his body wouldn't even reach five folds down, it was so high up here. Leaning forward on his elbows, looking at the sky, night of Waste and vacancy of his entire existence, Jaemin spent a good amount of time doing nothing. His back got sore, elbows scratched, and it was so cold that his teeth clattered. It was only when a sudden warmth envelope his body, that he turned around.

Jeno's blue hair couldn't go unnoticed, not with how bright and pretty it was. He took a few steps behind after dropping the coat on him, but his intense, attentive eyes didn't lose its focus, Jaemin's face.

"It's cold out here," Jeno said, acting like a total dumbass. He didn't say anything and turned back to watch the sky, but the boy who carried azure sphere on his head lingered on him, the scorching feeling of his gaze raising goosebumps all over his body. "Jaemin, I did not intend to insult you back then."

Jaemin gritted his teeth and straightened up, looking at him under dark, angry lashes. Jeno would always point out how long and pretty his eyelashes were, in the past, when he was still the moon boy. Why couldn't he stay this way? "I do not care about what you think of me," he lied. "Unlike you, I had to work hard to continue my life in Electric Station meanwhile you were finding enough food and time to gain huge muscles."

"You do not know anything," Jeno said, and sounded almost sad, despite how full his eyes were, eyes that used to show all his emotions, but it had burned low.

"I know despite your efforts to hide the truth. You used me, deceived me and avoided me like the plague when you came back." Jaemin narrowed his eyes. "But I also have enjoyed my life sometimes, do you know? If I had become one of the prostitutes at underground, I would have been the richest one for how many men fucked me to this day."

This surprised Jeno, as he perked up and eyes widened in shock, speechless by how shameless Jaemin talked. Then his face turned neutrel again, yet there was a fire in his gaze, jealousy. "You are basically saying you've enjoyed your life at my absence but I should have stayed died because I wasn't allowed to live without you. Sounds quite contradictory."

"You were the one who decided to leave!" Jaemin stood up with anger, walking on Jeno, who didn't step away for once. They were now levelled, staring down at each other in a fight of longing and rampant. "I had been lorn ruefully for being abandoned after so many beautiful hopes and dreams. I told you there isn't always more to world but you chose your stupid dreams over me. Everything that happened is because of you."

Jeno blinked. "You have been right," he said quietly, his voice running with the night breeze. "There isn't more in the world, there is nothing but misery out there."

Jaemin already knew this, he'd said it countless times, but that didn't stop him from still going after his dreams. Passing by him, brushing their shoulders harshly, and just before he intended to walk out, Jeno called out his name. Feeling melancholic, he stared at him over a shoulder, admiring how lofty he looked under moonlight with blue hair. Three years since gone, he had outgrown his babyish roundness. Nothing about him was the same: his limbs had outstretched, his face got boney, his muscles swelled up but it was the change within his eyes that hurt the most. No longer the spirit of a kid, shiny and pretty, with moonglow leading his soul. It was now sieged by a stranger man he wished to never meet.

If there was a new spark of remorse in dark eyes, Jaemin ignored it, just to make him suffer more because the pain he caused lately wasn't anything to forget.

"You have always been beautiful the way you're, and you still are gorgeous."

Jaemin remained neutrel all the way back to home, but when he did see Yukhei sprawled on the couch, he started crying, yet he still had no idea why he did that. Was it sorrow or happiness? Did he read the signs wrong or was Jeno really showing remorse for the way he treated him? Reminding himself not to get too excited, because he knew how disappointment felt, he calmed down in Yukhei's arms, wrapped around him safely. Until the night that they would go to Jungwoo's club, they only marched between factory and home paths. Lee had been quiet entire week, not even the sound of his motorcycle thundering around the city, and its absence was shockingly obvious. At least the motorcycle showed that he was still here but when it was absent, he felt like they were back to old days where pain and grief ruled over him.

When the big day came, Yukhei was biting on his nails, perched in the corner of couch. Jaemin hugged him tightly, telling him to do the right thing, but also reminding he would support him no matter what, despite finding his decision to be wrong. He had been by side throughout everything, it was his duty to back up his friend, as well, that's what best friends were for. Best friends. That title belonged to Mark in old days, yet he was gone, so were his parents. It was ridiculously scary how fast time flew, how easy people died and left your life. With the blink of an eye, you could be rolling down a cliff, everything was temporary. While dressing up, the reason Jaemin couldn't wear slacks was because it was way too big on him, so he went for dress-shirt again.

Jungwoo's club truly deserved its popularity, as it was very clean, tidy yet still filled with many weirdos. That's the place many of patrons and landlords hanged out with prostitutes, and they were all hungry wolves, as Jaemin grew restless under their gaze and clung to Yukhei closer. His session was an hour later, and he paid the price at the bar, the money that he'd been saving up for a long time. Jeno probably had that whole money on one of his pockets, just the price of a meal for him, yet cheap workers like them gained so little, so it was so fucking hard to gather so much money. While they walked towards the place that was reserved for them, Jaemin saw the girl from weeks ago, the one who was limping and secured by Lee guards.

"Who is this girl?" He asked Yukhei, since he did have a wide range of knowledge about prostitutes and clubs of Electric Station. They sat down on the sofa but Jaemin's eyes didn't look away from her kind posture, curvy body and soft hair. He must be looking like a beast next to such a beautiful person, no wonder Jeno chose her for a night, he pitifully thought.

"Hyesoo, if I'm not wrong. She is a real gem, isn't she?"

She was. With a dry swallow, Jaemin turned ahead and drank a cup of beer, causing Yukhei warn him about his low alcohol tolerance. He couldn't care less, honestly, not with the way everything had been unfolding. Perhaps he should also lock himself in a dark, rusty club and sell himself for short sessions of pleasure, perhaps that would be easier to bear. By the time Yukhei stood up to leave, to reunite with his childhood lover, Jaemin was drunk, eyes teary, and sprawled on the sofa. He didn't even give a single fuck that dress was too short to cover his ass, that he knew he was all bare in a cave of predators, but he felt so sad. Why couldn't he just have Jeno back? He'd returned but distances remained between them, why couldn't they just kiss and make up? He was so willing to step on his pride and beg him to love him again, if it meant he could touch and feel and hug his boy once more.

Feeling something soft and long graze him, Jaemin blinked through the haze and looked up with glassy eyes. Hyesoo smiled at him and covered his body with a pink blanket. "You were cold," she said, looking aside nervously. "I informed Jeno about the situation, he's on his way. Don't leave anywhere, alright?"

Jaemin blankly watched her stride away, wrapping her arms around another beautiful woman and dive into her lips, completely confused and drunk. Sighing deeply, his stomach churning with alcohol, he hugged the blanket tighter and closed his eyes to find a piece of tranquility somewhere inside his mind. Ever since his moon boy died, serenity was no longer found, no longer provided, because all good things died with their reason. Next time he woke up, it felt like hours did pass, but it was barely few minutes due to heavy effect of beer. Hyesoo was still on that woman's lap, looking towards his direction occasionally, and like hell if he understood shit. The fuck was happening?

When he got too hot, he pushed the blanket aside and smoothed his drees-like shirt. Then he turned around, perfect timing, as Jeno burst in with three of his men, hair blue and glowing, catching everybody's attention. Even without blue hair, he had that charisma and reputation that piqued interest within the residents. The only survivor of Waste. The Strider, as workers in noodle factory called him, believing that Jeno had discreetly wandered all around the world in three years of absence. Every step Jeno took was shaking the floor, making silence fall upon the club, making everyone drop their job just to stare at him, but his eyes were looking around, searching for someone.

For Jaemin.

He could see the way Jeno took a deep breath and walked up to him, approaching, getting closer, bigger and prettier, all clad in leather garment that fit his muscles perfectly. He sat down on the other side of couch, staring at his face coldly, and the world had long stopped spinning. As for Jaemin, he couldn't see anything else, anyone beyond this man.

"What are you doing here all alone, wearing this?" He asked, eyes roaming on Jaemin's legs. "It's a dangerous place for boys like you."

Jaemin blinked. "Boys like me?" He repeated. "There is nobody like me, Lee."

The way Jeno nodded instantly, so sure and precise, made his heart skip a few beats. How fucking humiliating it was that all it took to come back to life was through Jeno and his presence. Didn't he really have an ounce of pride in himself?

"That is obvious," he said, eyes dark and deep. "I can't even contend with you."

"You haven't seen anything about me yet. You were gone," Jaemin said sadly, taking a deep breath. His eyes spaced out to the days without Jeno, the pain, the sorrow, the grief, the way he mourned for him three years long. Why was he left behind for a stupid dream? Didn't he deserve more than valued less than a vacant desert? "You abandoned us."

He was startled when Jeno slid on the sofa, closing the gap between them, and his eyes were fierce and heavy, so deep that Jaemin drowned in. It was a good feeling to be lost on him, and it put a smile on his face, as he reached out and touched Jeno's face for the first time in years, without anyone retreating. His skin was too warm, too solid, too real, proving again that it was no dream, that he really survived and came back. His lips wobbled desperately, wanting to press them to Jeno's, taste his sweetness. He didn't taste sweet, Jaemin could see that, it was moon boy who was sweet and adorable and this man was none of it. He grazed his fingertips across the sharp jawline, stroking his chin, caressing slight scars, and sighed briefly in relief.

"You are here," he dreamily said, perhaps because of alcohol, but he felt ecstatic. "I didn't think you'd return, Jeno, I was sure you were dead somewhere out there."

"I didn't think I could return either," he murmured, eyes pained. "But I had to come back for you."

Jaemin laughed. For him? A very blatant lie considering he didn't even come to see him first weeks. When he felt Jeno's hand cupping his cheek, he closed his eyes with bliss and melted into his hand: calloused and rough just like his. He gained those hands through his hardwork and Jeno through the Waste, two different poles, yet he realized all the pain he'd suffered by the embossed lines of his palm. Holding onto the hand that covered his face, Jaemin wished to always feel it, always have it on his face, his body, that it would never leave him cold and bare once again.

"Can I take you home? You're so drunk," Jeno said, wrapping the blanket around his body. He nodded without much thought, because he wanted everything that consisted Lee and his presence. "I'm taking you in my lap then."

Jaemin felt himself float, still wrapped around the blanket, and he could take in the musky smell of Jeno since his face was near the column of his neck. Maybe he only did it because he was way too drunk to even see ahead, but it was still an improvement, as he relished in strong arms. He noticed the way Hyesoo nodded towards them, flashing a cute smile, then Jeno walked out of the club, going through the crowd that split at his sight. Narrow buildings, slumped bridges, rusty walls, bleak fumes, noises, people, everything was all over everywhere. But even the dreamer boy returned, even he couldn't find anything beyond the Waste and came back to his real home, Electric Station. If only he would have realized sooner that there was no life outside, and they wouldn't have to break apart for so long.

When they reached the door of his home, he remembered Yukhei had the key since Jaemin was quite tendentious to lose it. He looked up at Jeno's curious face and shrugged, murmuring something about dropping him here until his friend arrived, just for show, of course. Not that Jeno would leave him here in this state. They headed towards Lee building, and Jaemin closed his eyes with the warmth of solid body, dozing off briefly. He was tucked in a bed next time he opened his eyes, Jeno's room that he never had the bravery to go in and witness how dull it looked without moon boy. He wasn't wrong. The owner was back to his room but as a completely a different person: the toys, the holograms, the posters no longer were around. They were all gone with the spirit of sweetest, prettiest child.

Still, it was Jeno's room, and the pillow, the bed, the sheets, all smelled of him. Jaemin hugged the blanket and curled in a small ball, feeling himself bask in the feeling of him. Where was he now? The room was silent and void of any life, and even if sun already rose, lights still didn't reach here. It took time for entire city to be alight with sunshine through high, crowded buildings. He slept again and woke up with the sounds of gunshots, the bed shaking under his body, but it wasn't because of him. King and his gang had already begun the daily shift, killing people, scaring their customers, teaching them a ruthless lesson. They ruled through fear but if it wasn't for them, entire system would collapse.

Jaemin stretched his legs and yawned, lounging in the bed, until it was time to get up. He had to meet Yukhei and learn what happened last night. Rolling out of the bed, he smoothed his dress and made up his hair to look a little decent. When he tried to open the door, it was locked, and he had to halt for a second to let it sink in. Why the fuck he was locked inside? Banging the door and screaming for someone, he was left unanswered, and gunshots kept ringing somewhere. There was a big brawl inside the building, that's why he was locked in the room. Rushing to the window, finding it also locked and shielded by steel, he punched the wall. Could Jeno be in danger? He didn't think so. Nobody was a match for him.

Seeing the fresh food, clean water and new garment, Jaemin slumped on the edge of bed and picked at them loathly. He wasn't hungry, but perhaps he should change his clothes, though this new, clean garment wasn't even an option when Jeno's own clothes existed. Going through his closet and finding a blue tracksuit, he put on it and drank a little water to ease the dryness. If the dumbass hadn't thrown out the holograms, at least he could spend some time but he was left to die from boredom all alone in the room. Deciding to make the bed, then Jeno's closet just to avoid passing out in annoyance, he did a little work around the room. Still nobody came. Gritting his teeth, he ruined everything he'd done just now, tossing bed sheets aside, spilling water on his clothes, kicking the sofa spitefully.

As if he felt Jaemin's childish rage, the lock spun, and Jeno came in, looking at him weirdly, then around room that seemed straight out of a battle. "You just had to wait for a few hours," he stated, turning to him with a deadpan.

"The fuck happened out there?"

"Nothing. Brother just killed Lip's entire gang," he shrugged. Seeing the way the boy who despised killing men act so nonchalant about massacring an entire gang shocked him, but that was the new Jeno. The Waste did not pity him and shaped him to a monster. "You can leave now, it is safe."

"I will exactly do that," Jaemin said, passing by him, but Jeno grabbed his wrist lightly. His dark eyes were unforgiving.

"You haven't eaten anything."

He raised a funny brow. "And?"

"You should be eating, Jaemin. You will fall sick."

Jaemin rolled his eyes and freed out of his hand, though the skin was burning, and walked back to his home, finding Yukhei staring at the ceiling with hypnotized eyes. Growing concerned, he climbed his lap and hugged his torso tightly, remaining quiet for he knew Yukhei would tell what happened when it was the right time. All he could do was supporting his friend, despite how stupid his move was, paying for a night with your childhood lover, because he thought Jungwoo had changed way too much to care.

"I am a dumb, disgusting piece of scum that should die in a swamp."

Jaemin sighed. "No, you aren't," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, noticing the purple hickeys on his neck. "Was it worth it?"

"I don't know," he said, eyes teary and pained, and Jaemin held him closer. Later, he would learn that Jungwoo went crazy upon seeing him, tried to kick him out, then they had angry sex but the session left them with more questions. Then Xuxi asked him what happened in the club, and Jaemin shivered with the memory of Jeno walking in, taking him in his lap, tucking him in his bed to sleep, then again became furious that he was locked in the room because King was having a genocidal moment. Lees were a bunch of freaks, some a little too handsome, hot, and muscular. Remembering Jeno's thick and strong arms, his rigid chest, made his insides tickle with sensation.

Yukhei and Jaemin were both pensive next few days, going to work, returning home, sometimes climbing rooftop, silently watching the sky. Everytime, he looked at the Waste, imagining its horrors, what made Jeno despise the dreams he chased with a full heart. The scars on his body and face, from a creature they were yet to witness, secretly hoped that he would experience it. Was Waste filled with those creatures? Were they the ones that killed rest of the comrades? Jaemin trembled with the thought of dying in stranger lands at the mercy of a scary creature. Fuck Jeno and his stupid dreams, honestly. Sometimes you had learn how to live with what you got, because nothing else was fit for you.

It was a rainy day, Jaemin was returning from work, wet to his socks and balls, hating everything about the city, when loud thunders of motorcycle echoed through buildings, then it showed up all bleak and mighty. He stopped, watching Jeno block his way on the ladder, leather outfit wet, and dark eyes looked at him under the helmet. It was interesting how easily he found him amongst hundreds of paths but he would expect anything from this man. Stomping his foot, he stared at the way Jeno took off his helmet, flicked his blue hair, that was the only colour in the air right now, and maybe his pants got a little tighter but that was for Jaemin to know.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, because how strange it was that the boy who avoided him like the plague was now showing up all of a sudden to see him.

"Get in," Jeno said, then probably realising how dumb he sounded. "You have once talked about your desire to ride under heavy pour. It's raining, and I have a new motorcycle."

Jaemin checked it, pretty much brand new, but he didn't understand how Jeno still remembered that when even he forgot saying such shit, or why he wanted to make him experience it. What the fuck was going on inside his thick skull? Still, Jaemin was way too lovesick to turn down his offer, also riding under rain sounded better than walking wet. Reaching forward, he climbed the motorcycle, hesitating where to place his hands. That's, until Jeno grabbed one of his hands and put it on his waist, making his heart skip a beat and leap inside his ribcages. So he didn't care about touching him anymore.

"You are a really bad person, Lee," he whispered, then hugged his body tightly, closing his eyes with bliss while leaning against the solid, broad back. It felt like home, it felt warm, even under open sky and violent pour, it felt like everything he'd been missing for years. Presence of his moon boy, because Jeno promised to hold him many lifetimes, die and reborn in his arms, and perhaps it happened this way. After taking him for dead for three years, Lee returned from the Waste. They rode around the wall, a few times, the sound of motorcycle competing with clash of thunders, yet it was a music to his ears. It was Jeno, in the end, and Jaemin was a sucker for everything he gave.

They were wet, soaked, yet he felt so happy hugging Jeno, leaning on his back, taking in his manly smell, mingled with salty taste of rain. Once he rode back to buildings, going through many ladders and bridges, making people almost jump off to run out of their way, Jaemin straightened up, though he didn't part their bodies. How could he? He wanted to press against him forever, until all their curves and lines were one and only. When they stopped near the warehouse, Jeno took off his helmet, flicked his damped hair again, and he watched in awe, heart swelling at the beautiful sight. His boy was gorgeous. He jumped off the motorcycle and turned to Jaemin, who was still in awe, staring at him with agape mouth, and his dark eyes were intense and sensual, flickering all over his face.

"You look so beautiful," he said, and Jaemin's jaw dropped. Jeno hesitantly reached out and ran a hand through his wet locks, gloved fingertips sending shivers down his spine. "You are always so beautiful."

What was that now? What was Jeno trying to do? If he was trying to make up for the shit he told back then, about his appearance, Jaemin wouldn't fall in these traps, not to mention he actually did but making him suffer was so pleasing. Getting off the motorcycle, gloved hand falling down, he said he's gonna take a shower then left. Lee building had the warmest and cleanest water in entire city, thanks to King having an iron grip on all reservoirs. The aquifer where they took water from laid just below the city but only the richest could have the cleanest water. He never had problem with it until three years ago, as even when his parents were still here, moon boy would provide them fresh water every day.

Sighing deeply, Jaemin entered Jeno's room, took off his clothes and stepped into bathroom for a quick shower, though it lasted longer that. He washed his hair and body with Jeno's soap, smelling like him, basking in his dreamy presence, and dried himself with a big towel. Wrapping around the towel that covered his whole body, he went back to room where Jeno was laying over his bed, and hesitated for a second before reaching towards the closet. He felt the other turn around to let him dress, his heart maybe a little melting at how thoughtful it was, because that was how his old boy would act. After he changed into a loose sweatshirt and shorts that wasn't even seen, he turned towards the bed, where Lee was watching outside with glassy eyes.

"I'm done," he said, playing with the hem of sweatshirt. Jeno looked at him over a shoulder and straightened up in bed, running a hand through his damp hair, blue dye marks printed on white pillow.

"Dry your hair with this," he spoke, pointing at something in the shelf. Jaemin grabbed the big, weird device and tried to understand how he could dry his hair with this shit. "Plug in," Jeno said again, and he did, closing his eyes with the effect of air that blew into his face. It was also so annoyingly loud. When the device stopped working, he opened his eyes and saw Jeno chewing on his bottom lip to avoid laughing, though dark eyes shined with much joy. Something burned up inside Jaemin at the sight, memories sucking him in a whirlpool, shoving him into an abyss that stared back at him. He was so beautiful, like the sweetest reminiscent of moon boy that left and never came back.

"Let me do it for you," Jeno offered, and all Jaemin could do was staring. "It's a hairdryer, a new device that's been invented by our men."

"Why are you acting like this?" Jaemin asked, ignoring everything he said. Jeno swallowed, looking into his eyes, black pupils dilating. "You weren't even looking at my face weeks ago, you were too strict and cold towards me. What did change now?"

"How do you wish me to be?"

"I don't ask anything from you," Jaemin said, taking the hairdryer back and plugging in. This time, he perhaps understood how it worked, blowing through his hair, too hot that his skull hurt but he didn't care much. Jeno was watching him from same spot, just a little further apart that his elbow brushed at his chest sometimes. After drying his hair, he put it down, and Lee turned it off after him. "I'm leaving. Do not disturb me again."

"Jaemin, stay for tonight," Jeno said, and thank heavens Jaemin was facing the door so his expression couldn't be seen. "It's still raining and you can call your friend here too."

Slowly, he swallowed, blinked his eyes, tried to put on a blank face and turned around, seeing Jeno rub at the back of his nape. They stared at each other for a moment, then he shrugged and passed by Lee, purposely brushing their arms and settled on the foot of bed. While wiggling his legs like a kid, the way they used to do often in the past, he looked up at blue haired boy who seemed to have a hard time averting his gaze from Jaemin's legs. Perhaps he smirked a little but it was gone before Jeno could see it.

"Turn on the holograms then, it's quite boring here."

Jeno nodded, going through the shelves, low waist of his sweatpants making Jaemin's mouth water at the sight of his perfect body, lithe hips and strong muscles. Letting out a deep, deep, aroused sigh, he ignored the twitch between his legs, definitely not a right time to get hard because of a delicious sight. Because honestly, fuck him, for real. While he adjusted the devices, Jaemin played with his nails, cracking crooked knuckles, a few times they'd been crushed under machines at factory. When he tilted his head, Jeno's eyes were glued on his hands, gaze dark and intense, yet Jaemin grew uncomfortable for a reason. That was the look of scrutinizing, thinking deep, and even judging. He didn't want to be criticized for his body anymore.

"Is it open?" He asked to disperse the bubble, pulling his knees to himself, accidentally kicking Jeno's arm off the bed. Losing his balance all of a sudden, he fell back, a loud thud ringing inside the room, being way too heavy to go silent. Knowing it wouldn't hurt, Jaemin remained calm but that little glimpse of worry reminded him how much this boy meant to him, the moon boy he waited for three years. "Are you okay?"

Jeno looked ahead with a stoic face, then shook his head, slowly laying down on floor with a pained expression. He wasn't okay, he truly wasn't, as his hand roamed over his shirt where scars laid under, scars of Waste, ruins of fear and thrill. Copying his move, Jaemin also stretched by the edge of bed, eyes not leaving him even for a second, like he would disappear if he looked away briefly. No matter the distances, misconceptions and obstacles set between them, he didn't want to lose him again, didn't want to imagine him dead, because even the knowledge of his presence somewhere in Electric Station was better than a bodiless ghost wandering in the Waste.

"I do not deserve to be okay," he said, and Jaemin felt his pain in his own heart. "You were right, I shouldn't have returned, should have stayed dead where all my comrades died. Why did I even return?"

"Tell me what's out there."

Jeno twisted his jaw, memories of Waste hunting him down, squeezing the rope around his neck, but Jaemin wouldn't let anything take him away, not anymore. "Just misery, nothing else, just constant agony and survival. You were right again, I painfully realized that night, that Electric Station is truly built to protect us, to keep its residents safe. There really is a reason this huge wall is surrounding the city."

Jaemin shivered, failing at imagining something so dangerous and dreadful that even the ever dreamer, felt remorse for going out of the city. When he remained quiet, Jeno looked at him, something dawning on his face like the first rise of sun, so beautiful, so refreshing, turning a new page for everyone that needed it. But for people like them, residing deep between high crammed buildings, sunlights barely reached and touched them.

"I returned for this," he whispered, grabbing his wrist, rolling up the sleeve and revealing Jaemin's bracelet. His heart stopped beating, breath stuck in his throat, and all he wanted to do was cry, cry and cry until he was satisfied, until it was all out of him, all the suffocating emotions that he couldn't carry any longer. What was Jeno doing? He had no right to play with him, avoiding him first weeks, acting all strange, breaking his heart, then behaving as if he owned his life, taking decisions on his behalf. And now this, showing that he kept the bracelet, he still had the bracelet.

"I think you're having a personality crisis," Jaemin said, his voice cracking. "Have you forgotten how you treated me?"

Jeno straightened up, levelling their eyes, face so close that Jaemin froze on his spot, because his smell was clogging his senses. "I know how much of an idiot I am," he said, gulping roughly, but his eyes were firm. "I just wanted to protect you from what I've become, because someone like you don't deserve someone like me, Nana. I am not the kid you used to know."

"You'd think it is my right to decide what to do," Jaemin deadpanned, though his heart was resounding all over his mind. "If you wanted some distance, you could have done it without acting the way you did. I waited for three years just to be thrown aside like a ragdoll."

Jeno nodded strictly, knowing his mistake had been deciding on Jaemin's behalf. "You're right, I can't say anything else," he said, rubbing a hand across his exhausted face. After a moment, he looked back at him with intense eyes, and he had to ignore the twitch of his cock again, pushing the thoughts of Lee fucking him so hard he would left limping, like Hyesoo.

"Who is the girl at the club?" He asked, trying to sound as monotone as he could. He didn't want Jeno to feel bad for sleeping around when he'd done much more.

"A friend. She really is one. We only fucked once and then decided to stay in touch. Thankfully she instantly informed me about you that night because anything could have happened."

Jaemin nodded, not letting jealousy gnaw at his skin, he'd fucked many more men, been to beds and homes he no longer remembered, felt so many hands on his body to ignore the pain of his moon boy. Not everybody had the same mental state. Looking between Jeno and around the room, he decided to leave him at the edge again, for the way he treated him back then, and reached out to run a hand through blue locks, his hair was truly an ocean that waved around his fingers. After pulling away, Jeno was staring at him with darkened, deep eyes, and Jaemin put on a small smile though he felt so flustered by his intensity.

"I'll take a nap, be quiet," he spoke, lounging in the bed, hugging the sheets, smelling Jeno on his pillow. Practically a perfect place to sleep. If he felt the bed heave down, a solid body just behind him, soft fingertips playing with his hair, he stayed unconscious, enjoying the feeling of Lee. As promised, he would have taken what belonged to him, but that didn't mean it would happen without paying for past mistakes, oh god, he would pay a drastic price.

He couldn't sleep properly since Jeno was right behind him, but they didn't touch as if it was a sin, and Jaemin longed for it dearly. Sometimes he stirred awake with the noises, room dim and eerie, nothing like the old room of moon boy who kept it alive and alight, but before he could wake up fully, there was a deep voice that told him to go back to sleep. He was here. Thank the heavens that he was, finally back to his arms. Towards the dawn, Lee got out of the bed, changed his clothes and left quickly. When Jaemin discreetly looked at him over a shoulder, he saw his face dark, indistinguishable in the shadows of the hallway, like a dark night creature.

"I will come back," he said before leaving, and with a deep sigh, Jaemin went back to sleep. He was back by his side when he woke up again, probably almost noon, the sun blinding his sight. To escape its wrath, he turned in the bed and tucked into latter's chest, feeling his pounding heartbeats. "Good morning, Nana."

He blinked his eyes slowly, looking at his clothed torso, stretched tight. "Where did you go at night?"

"I needed fresh air." A moment of silence. Jeno was too monotone and dull, nothing like his childhood when he would just scream and tell out everything. Still, his hesitance could be noticed. "I cannot sleep most nights, way too many nightmares on my tail to escape reality."

He frowned. "Nightmares about what?"

He sighed, his chest rising dramatically, then one of his hands came up to cup Jaemin's face and lift it up, his eyes so sultry, so dark with a twinge of guilt. Entire Electric Station feared Jeno for being able to survive the Waste, but there he was shaken by the scenes he'd to witness out there. "I always saw you in my dreams back in the Waste," he whispered hoarsely. "I was dying to find you again, even a glimpse of your dream was enough to keep me going. Everybody died, I almost died too."

"Tell me what happened all at once, Lee. I can't stand it anymore."

Jeno took a deep breath, pulling his hand back, making Jaemin crave for him more, but it wasn't the time, as he fisted his hands at the back same way he used to do whenever he got scared. The little movement that came from past dropped a hell onto his heart, aching for his sweet, sweet moon boy who had to evolve, who had to change, and that was worse than dying. Facing somebody you used to know so well, yet failing at remembering who they're now. He truly understood the depth of Yukhei's words about finding the person you longed for dearly, but everything had changed, nothing was the same, because world didn't stop for any of them. Life went on in the Electric Station and the Waste and no matter where they stood, they had to survive. So they did.

Then Jeno began telling, how they rode away from the city, finding no sign of life anywhere close, and deciding to go further. There were no buildings, no cities, no forests, just golden sand and vacancy. Then one night, when they were sleeping peacefully, he'd woken up to the sounds of grumbling and rumbling, breath of an animal fanning across his face. The Bones, that looked like giant wolf monsters, with white ribcages sticking out and doing lethal attacks. They didn't know what they were, and they only appeared during new moon, dark nights that were illuminated only by the natural light of stars and other celestial objects.

At the night of first attack, his brother Doyoung was only one to die, and they barely escaped thanks to motorcycles. Away. Far away. To run from the creatures, they rode further and further, until they reached the land of green, but still no sign of life. During the attacks, they lost another comrade, and another one had a deadly wound that Donghyuck had decided killing her would be ending her misery. When it was three of them left, they were still wandering in the greenland, still no building and human on sight. The way he told the absence of life made Jaemin shiver down to his cores, imagining himself at the vacant paths of world out there. He didn't want it.

"It happened that night of new moon, we were looking for a place to hide before creatures would show up, an embarrassing and shameful we would go down in stranger lands. We had nobody, not even the god by our side, and it was only the ever dream of you that kept me going. I began leading them after Doyoung's death, tried keep us one piece and flesh. Sometimes there would be fights and arguments but when it was time to survive, we all locked on to each other." Jeno's lips wobbled with rage. "Minghyu was acting like a dick, and because of him we were out in the forest at night, and creatures were here to hunt us down like a bunch of flies. He ran away first, leaving me and Donghyuck behind, but since he used his motorcycle most of monsters chased the noise. We heard his screams from across the land, but couldn't show a moment of weakness to mourn. At least I thought so."

Jeno sighed deep, eyes dull, before starting to tell how Donghyuck wasn't moving anywhere, looking up the sky, opening his arms to embrace death, because he didn't have anyone to stay alive for. In fact, he had Mark to reunite afterlife, so he chose to die. Lee had wept for him, but he had to continue his way to survive, to go back to Jaemin one day. For a long time, he was all alone in the forest, and as they'd been doing before, he was feeding from tree branches. He told how there was no animal out there, nothing except for the monsters with bones and their deadly mauls as he carried many of them on his body. One night, while he was riding down a path, his motorcycle slipped and hd fell through a pit, clashing so hard he passed out. When he woke up, somebody was pulling him by his ankle, and at first Jeno mistook them of creatures that came to kill him as well.

"I was so fucking scared, Jaemin, I was so helpless and weak. My hand and mind lingered on you, but I knew the harsh reality of the outer world. If you're dead, you're dead, rotting all alone somewhere nobody sets foot on, your flesh falling off in time. The entire Waste and beyond is a whole graveyard of people who makes the mistake of dreaming to sed more. Being a dreamer may be a hopeful little thing in another world but it gets you killed here. I was lucky, I was so lucky because the last residents of the continent found me in the pit and carried me to their underground city."

Jaemin perked up, rising on his elbow, hovering above Jeno's chest to blink his eyes curiously. There were other humans in the world. "We are not alone in the world," he said, mind reeling for a moment. Jeno ghostly stroked his cheek, warmth of his big hand comforting Jaemin, because he'd fought nail and tooth to return back to him.

"We are alone in Electric Station, the last stand of humanity before everything went down."

"What does that mean?"

Jeno straightened up, resting against the bedrest, but Jaemin chose to lay down on his thighs, face dangerously close to his crotch but that was irrelevant for now. Dark eyes seeped through his, laying everything bare and open, and he instinctively reached out to take Jeno's hand in his, catching him off guard, and when he was just about to pull away, he intertwined their fingers tightly. The sight of their hands resting on each other, broken, crooked and calloused, hurt his sensitive heart, but also the way they were in his room, in his bed, holding on to one another to overcome hardships felt like good old days. He never wanted to lose it.

"They call it the apocalypse: Sun flare scorched the Earth, irradiating the surface and melting the ice caps, thereby flooding cities in the old world," Jeno began, voice low and husky. "Nothing has been this way, everything used to be different, I wish I could show you the photos. Imagine much bigger cities, streets, parks than this, imagine a world all colourful and joyful. It is not ours."

"How did we end up here then?"

Jeno caressed his knuckles, his eyes softening at the sight of scarred hands, because moon boy would never like to see him hurt. "Apparently to protect the rest of survivors, the governments of lasting countries wanted to build these walls to flood people inside, but then the Bone creatures happened. The residents of underground said they were mutations of animals that were affected by a virus or the radiation that spread within the Sun flare. Ever since they appeared, survivors lessened and lessened, and some of them ran underground to escape the wrath of surface. There might be other secured cities in the rest of world and continents, but it's the only one in our area."

Jaemin blinked dumbly. "How do they know the past but we do not?"

"They didn't choose to hide the facts from residents throughout centuries because their system is way different, whereas my descenders apparently wanted to keep the truth to themselves and the secret vanished somewhere between family lines. It'd been too long since apocalypse happened, and nothing remains out there, nothing but the monsters." Jeno's darkened charcoal eyes looked out of the window, hues of solitude, acceptance, failure washing over him, because he went outside the city in a hope of seeing rest of the world. That had been his dream all along, and now it was all gone.

"Tell me more," Jaemin whispered, crawling higher and resting his head on the hard stomach, tight with muscles that he gained in the underground city, probably. Looking down at him, Jeno swallowed, clasping another hand around their interlocked fingers. He did tell more, how he was treated by the residents that were surprised to see a human alive, because not much time passed before monsters annihilated people. The woman who found him became his anchor, kept him in her home, fed him, supported him, and promised to take him back to home one day. In the underground, he was taken care of well, and Jaemin felt so incredibly bad for talking so mindlessly before: because Jeno spent years trying to survive outside, he deserved more in return.

"Monsters don't come near Electric Station because they do not like light, hence they appear during new moon. Lady Jinjoo devised a way to take me to the Waste through underground paths, and we probably spent months walking until seeing familiar golden sands. During the way, I had lost all my hope and joy to return, to reunite with you, because how long had it been? I was changed so drastically, those hands that you used to love holding, making you feel safe, are now covered in blood and misery. I did not want you to share and burden my pain, though I acted like a total dumbass, because our hearts have never been separated, Nana. We always have been together."

"You should have noticed it sooner," Jaemin dryly said, though his heart was racing so hard his chest vibrated. He took in a deep breath as Jeno looked down with a sigh. "The motorcycle plans, the security cameras, the holograms you do not share with other people, they are all left from our ancestors that used to live in a different world."

"This is our world," Jeno murmured, face contorted in hatred. "Crammed buildings, flashy lights, dark fumes, constant noises and rusty walls, it is our only home. Outside world only showed me the cruel truth I never wanted to accept, but it's the way it's. Sometimes you cannot change your fate. There is no other life for us."

When Jaemin looked into his eyes, he saw a boy who'd never be satisfied with what he got, but had to accept it because nothing else remained for them. He dreamed of exploring more, and did explore more of the world, but at what cost? He should have been more realistic to the dangers but was way too naive for that, his sweet moon boy who used to see the world through the good of his own heart, and that's why Jaemin loved him. He loved the innocence in Jeno, the boy who hated violence, blood and killing, but he was morphed to the very person he despised. A fierce boy who was once all soft and nurturing, and blunt, nagging, the most beautiful star synonymous with home. Horrible twist of fate tested him from his most vulnerable side: aching desire to dream and discover.

Straightening up and yanking his hand away from Jeno's strong fingers, Jaemin decided he should have some time for himself, to let the truth sink in. As he roamed around the room to grab his filthy clothes, dark eyes watched him, sitting on the edge of bed. What was there to say more? They needed time, but he knew that at the end of day, he would be in Jeno's arms again, because that's what he yearned for, nothing else. Before leaving, they stared at each other, quiet and demure, and he let himself melt into warm orbs just to indulge himself. This boy belonged to him, nobody else, and he could never turn him down, no matter how much he was hurt. When they hugged, it was as though the stars fell from sky, burned down the land of reunion, and endless darkness captured them in, yet their universe was within their eyes. They couldn't look anywhere else.

There was something so needy in Jeno's arms as they wrapped around Jaemin's waist, rough and clutching, like he feared it was another daydream. He was firm at first, holding him as if something would yank him off, but then he was beginning to slouch into his embrace, hugging him with overflowing affection. To think that he had been too alone, too cold in the middle of a desert and even his tears used to roll down like snowflakes. He was living the winter and Jaemin didn't know how to bring spring to his branches. Spring never comes to loving hearts, he would say, but mere dream of his moon boy was enough to swell his heart. This wasn't his moon boy, though, a stranger, weathered man who was crushed by his own hopes and visions about a possible world that existed beyond the horizon.

There was a river that flowed between them, and Jeno blurred it when he decided to leave but he was still Jaemin's. They belonged together, they had nobody but each other.

"Come back to me," Jeno whispered, and they both knew what he meant. Come back to me the way I returned for you. How could Jaemin tell him he never moved anywhere, remained glued to his spot at his absence? That everyone moved on but he stayed still, because he'd lost his troublemaker friend, confidante, basically his everything. A little cluster of hope was what kept him from moving forward, the hope of moon boy returning one day, and what would he do upon not seeing him where they separated? "I spent years to return to where my heart is, finally back in your arms. Do not waste us, my beautiful Nana."

Before Jaemin would vanish into thin air, Jeno pressed a quick kiss to side of his head, and he ducked his head low to hide blushing cheeks, rushing out of the door. His eyes couldn't spot the ladders he ran across, with enthusiasm of reaching home to tell Yukhei everything, except the truth about the outer world because that wasn't important, was it? It'd been centuries since apocalypse, and rest of survivors somehow continued their lives, there didn't need to be more. Sometimes everything was alright the way it was, you just needed to embrace it fully. When he bumped into someone at the hallway of his building, he groaned in pain at the rigid impact. The man had a steel chest or something.

"You fine, blondie?"

He looked to ugly, vile smirk of man, and passed by him, ignoring the ache of his head, but he was blocked by an arm that slammed him to the wall. Growing anxious, since it was all familiar, it was all Hyunbin used to do to him, Jaemin struggled in his arms, roughly bumping the man's head. Fuck, he really was made of steel or something like that, because not even a slight budge. This was not a man he could beat, and it scared him, freaking him out.

"I asked something, whore. I hate being left unanswered," the man said, trying to shove his face into Jaemin's.

"I'll fucking kill you," he breathed out, hands twitching from where they grabbed the man's collar. When he decided to be cocky, Jaemin hit right across his throat, making him choke on his saliva, and ran out of his arms. Escaping the hall was a memory from old days, all the times he tried to dodge and dump Hyunbin, and it was his most poignant memory, being harassed this way. He used to be a child back then, yet nobody cared, everybody tried to take a bite of him, because he was also an orphan and everybody thought they owned him. Weeping his tears in front of the door, trying to ease the dreaded beat of his heart, he gave himself time to compose himsef. Then he entered his home.

That was a pretty strange, remote sight because Jungwoo was standing in the middle of his room, dressed in expensive silk attire, and Yukhei seemed to have a heart attack on the sofa. Pushing away his own concerns, he smiled at the beautiful, timeless boy that eyed him up and down, with slight grimace of his mouth. He was belittling him, he should. Jaemin was nothing pretty and alluring the way this gorgeous boy was, and deserved to be insulted.

"I'll leave you too alone," he said, looking at his friend who sent him a pitiful glance, but he just couldn't intrude their privacy.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He heard Jungwoo ask, while walking into his bedroom, and perked up nervously. Why was he acting so rude? Slamming the door shut, he found himself eavesdropping out of annoyance, though it was such an indecent behaviour towards his dear friend.

"Jungwoo, please. I told you he's my best friend," Yukhei said.

"Does he always wander around in such small shorts or is it special for you?"

Jaemin's jaw dropped at his rudeness, the way he was sexualising him in order to push his own sick thoughts. While looking down at his legs, measuring the length of shorts, he realized something: that was exactly in his size. Jeno couldn't wear them. Did he buy them just for Jaemin and put in his closet?

"Weird," he murmured, sprawling on his bed, closing his eyes, thinking about everything Jeno said. His heart ached for the way he stayed all alone, burdening the deaths of his comrades, trying to survive in a no man's land. How did he leave him all alone? Jaemin should have stopped him, locked him in his room, begged to stay with him, everything in order to keep his moon boy beside, but he made the mistake of putting Jeno's dreams above his own fears. That had been the biggest mistake, the cause of three years of separation. He was forced to wake up when Yukhei barged inside, bouncing on his bed, hugging his body tightly after his boy left. Needless to say, he smelled of sex, and Jaemin tried to push his head away but he wouldn't nudge.

"Why did you pay a fortune if he can simply come to see you?" He asked, giving up struggling in his arms. The striking difference between how Yukhei and Jeno held him spiked something in him, because whereas he could feel friendly squeeze of first man, he was bombarded in longing, desire, affection, sorrow in the arms of his moon boy, who had been long gone, who came back with the thunder of his steps. There was nobody else in the world for him, only Lee Jeno, and they both knew the cruelty of world yet managed to find a sense of pleasure, comfort and security in each other. Jaemin couldn't lose it again.

"I didn't know he could leave underground either," he pointed out. "His friends managed to sneak him out for a while to come see me, though I really wasn't expecting him to show up when I wrote down my address. I think people can do quite unexpected things if they want to see you."

Jaemin suppressed a smile, biting on his bottom lip, because he was right. Jeno had marched the whole world to go back to where his heart was, his Nana, who was entirety of his heart. There wasn't anything more pleasing and contending for him. "Jeno still loves me."

"Wasn't it obvious? You haven't seen the way he ran to backrooms to find you in club," Yukhei said.

"He also told the reason of his absence and what happened in the Waste, but I cannot share it with you."

"This just makes me more curious," Yukhei snorted, but still kept him close as he always did. "I know things can get better for both of you, because love is love, and your heart always chases who it belongs to. Do not turn down a chance of happiness if you have it, Jaemin, don't make my mistake."

"It will happen the way it's destined."

"I hate what it's offered to me so far."

"Who doesn't?" Jaemin murmured, sighing deep. At night, they woke up to go to work, changing into their suits. His mind was clogged at the factory, looking around the vehicles, devices, everything that stayed from their ancestors that died miserably from apocalypse. Would the apocalypse come upon them one day as well? He tried to imagine Electric City, crowded, narrow and flashy, get buried in utter dark and ruins, memories of them all flying away, because it's how the world was. Nothing remained behind, everything was temporary, and Jaemin knew it'd end for them too some day in future. But he couldn't care about it now, could he? His Jeno was back and they still had some time to spend together, nothing could take it away.

Yukhei was at work when Jeno came to his home at midnight, a cigarette between his lips, plump and very pink that Jaemin couldn't avert his gaze. How badly he wanted him, desired to touch his body for once, as free as possible, feeling evey rigid inch of his hard body. He was so fucking jealous of Hyesoo, because she got to fuck him first and that was completely unfair. Jaemin should have been the one to sink down on Jeno's cock.

"May I come in?" He asked, tinting his head to the side, his perfect, breathtaking blue hair and pretty, handsome face. Wanting to play coy and seductive, because he deserved the privilege, Jaemin pouted his bottom lip, leaning against the door, bending a leg and brushing it across the length of Jeno's thighs. The reaction was instant, the stir in tight leather pants, and he suppressed a smile while looking at him innocently. Jeno was squeezing his jaw so hard it could crack any moment. Only sound was the constant dripping of walls, slight murmurs over the hall, and somebody choking someone next door but they gave no care. His attention was focused on the way Jeno's breath hitched sharply.

"It is so indecent to visit a young, single boy's home at such uneven hours."

"Oh? Are you single?" Jeno let out, hovering above his face, eyes lingering in Jaemin's lips that he continuously licked slyly. "Nice to hear that."

If he kept fanning his breath across Jaemin's face, staring him down with those dark, lustful eyes, showing how eager he was to ravish him, he would have given in and found himself moaning under Jeno, but god, no. It was so early. Turning on his heels, he walked up to couch and settled down, stretching his legs over the headrest. He watched the latter slam the door shut, making sure it's locked safely, as he always used to do three years ago whenever he visited his home, and crouch at the other side of old, worn out sofa. He took off his black boots and put his feet on the surface, almost shoving them under Jaemin's hips, because they also did it quite often in the past. But now so many filthy scenarios would show up if something like that ever happened.

"It hasn't changed even a little," Jeno said, scrutinizing the small room with dark eyes. "It does not smell like you, though."

He patted the sofa slightly. "It's Yukhei's bed. My own room is drowned in my smell."

Jeno smiled, those cute little crescents that should have vanished with the moon boy, but they still were here, on the face of a man who marched all the way back to Electric Station just to reunite with him again. He was changed, but perhaps despite how hard he was forced to forge, there were still remnants of old Jeno deep down.

"Have you ever killed anyone out there?" Jaemin asked, watching the glow burn low on Jeno's face, and immediately regretted asking because he didn't have the right to dig his horrible life in the Waste. "You don't need to answer."

"It's alright. You need all the answers even though it cannot make up for how bad I treated you. I never killed any of the monsters, barely managed to run from them but in the underground city, I got into a few brawls. The life there is as cruel as ours and I had to choose to wash in someone else's blood instead of shedding my own."

Jaemin nodded, remembering how old Jeno used to hate harming people, and now he didn't even flinch while talking about murder. This was a different man, sharper, rougher, smarter, and sometimes he sounded and looked like complete stranger, eyes colder, brutal, and didn't forgive a mistake. He was wounded and broken in half yet still as scrumptious as ever, despite the changes. Setting his feet down, curling them around Jeno's, Jaemin blushed at his own attitude because no matter the direction, they were always gravitated towards one another. Jeno's eyes told his hardened misery, but he had enough warmth for Jaemin to shelter in, perhaps too warm because they were both dying to touch, kiss and hold each other.

His mind used to be a prison after Jeno left and until he came back, one that he was locked in forever. But now it could again become his sacred haven, because a heart was fed with love same way wood fueled fire. He chased a sweet dream, one that he thought, imagined and grew excited every time he looked out at the Waste, at the world beyond the wall and horizon. It dawned on Jaemin that he could never make him fully happy and satisfied if he hadn't driven out of the city. Jeno could see the stars, but he had to touch them to fill the curiosity in him. In a way, he did the right thing for himself, because sometimes a bitter loss was better than never knowing the result of fighting.

"It is all gone," he said, and Jeno gulped roughly. "You have chased after a dream and found what's out there. It is all left behind."

"I'd been looking into the Waste for years, dreaming about what I might see out there, what I might feel like when I finally step outside. What if itâ€™s not everything I dreamed it would be? But still, I was stubborn to persuade my goal." Jeno blinked slowly, gaze low and pained. "My biggest guilt will forever be abandoning you behind."

"I can't deny," he murmured. "You missed plenty of things, Lee."

With dark eyes, Jeno leaned forward, sliding between two of Jaemin's legs, putting his chin on his flat stomach, hands cupping his hips softly. He was so gentle, beware of harming him, holding as if he would protect him from everything. He would. Despite all the shit he told himself, Jaemin again found himself giving in because fuck, that was Jeno, his boy, his everything. How could he avoid him? Running his fingers throughout blue locks, making the other close his eyes with bliss, laying between his legs like it was where he belonged, his home. What a sweet ending for them.

"Have you seen me in your dreams?" He asked, wrapping a strong arm around Jaemin's waist, manhandling him so easily he shivered in need. If enchanted dreams whisper in my name every night, wake up from your sweet sleep because I can't sleep when I think of you. I will never get tired of loving you, my Nana.

"You were my dream," Jaemin whispered plainly, and felt Jeno's hands tighten around him, but it was a good feeling. He could stay in his arms forever, until their lines were all printed on one another, all their bones mingled, their breaths interlaced. He didn't know when they dozed off, with Jeno's head on his belly, body between his legs, his own hands on blue locks. When he woke up, Yukhei was cooking noodle, shooting him a knowing look, heavy weight still lingering over him. Jeno had always been the prettiest sleeper, cheeks flushed, lips pouting, hair tousled, and his fingers were clutching at Jaemin's waist tightly. What a sight to witness.

"I was gone for a night shift and you got dicked down."

Jaemin stared at him. "I wouldn't fuck him in your bed, Xuxi."

He snorted, pouring noodle onto three bowls. While he was preparing the food, Jaemin squirmed around, gently patting Jeno's cheek, making him stir up with low gaze and wet of his lips. He was lethally attractive this way, and Jaemin could feel himself tense up with tickling desire to get dicked down, hopefully very soon. They were awkward while eating their food, with a Yukhei that sent him playful eyes and stiffened once Jeno shot him a look but it wasn't an uncomfortable tension. After breakfast, Jaemin watched him put on his boots and jacket, in a rush to join his brother for a meeting session. Despite having an important task to do in morning, he'd chosen to visit and stay with Nana.

"Can you come by dinner time?" Jeno asked when he was about to leave, leaning towards his face the way he did last night.

"What do you have got for me?" Jaemin asked, stepping closer and levelling their eyes. "I want lollipops."

He nodded. "Anything for you. I want to show you something else, though."

"Also bubblegum," Jaemin said, waving off his words, causing him to roll his eyes and smirk dangerously hot. They should kick Yukhei out and fuck against the wall, probably, because literal flames ignited between them, crying out to slam into one another, but just a little more. Then Jeno would be his utterly. It was such a shame for them to be apart, some people were meant to be together to the death and through all lifetimes. After he left, Jaemin curled in Xuxi's lap, praying gods to have mercy on them, to let them stay linked after years of separation. If he washed, shaved clean, did his hair pretty and dressed into nicest clothes, then it was absolutely to get fucked by Jeno, he had no shame accepting his burning desire for the boy with big muscles and prominent features.

He almost dropped the eyeliner on his hand upon a loud thud, followed by gun shots, then the sound of men thundering down the hallways viciously. Another shot went off, echoing inside the buildings, sending shivers down his back and Jaemin felt his chest tense up upon hearing the noises get closer. Running inside where Yukhei eavesdropped the wall, he pushed him aside and locked the door, urging him to push the sofa against the door in a hope of security. They very well knew the brawls of Electric Station, when gangs began rading, raping and barging. He doubted anyone would try to harm him because Jeno was still known to be protective over him, but better safe than sorry. The cacophony of bloodshed beyond the walls was a danger, and they found themselves crouching in a corner, shielded by the fridge until it all came down.

Yukhei was tall and strong, but he didn't know much about fighting, meanwhile Jaemin was a master at it but he really wasn't up for unnecessary rows that would get him hurt. Best way to stay safe was taking protection and remaining cold-blooded during such moments until it ended. When more guns rang out, vibrating the halls, shaking the floor, somebody slammed against their door, trying to take it down. They both perked up, staring at the way door and sofa nudged slightly. Who the fuck was trying to get into their home?

"Fuck it," Yukhei cursed, standing up and grabbing a knife from the shelf, then all Jaemin could see was blood. The bullet came from the window and sliced his friend's throat, making him choke on his blood, limbs giving out instantly. Jaemin watched, frozen, as Xuxi fell down, painting the floor crimson, his blood reaching the tip of his toes, washing him in red. Everything buried in silence, guns disappeared, the tremor of floor stopped, and all that remained was bloody dead body of Yukhei. The deaths never came to an end, did it? It always took and took, first his parents, then Mark, now Yukhei, the tall, lanky guy with goofiness and affection embedded in him. He died. Why did he die? He'd just reached out to Jungwoo, why did all the stories have to stay unfinished?

"Jaemin!"

It was Jeno that pierced through the bubble, crouching next to him, cupping his head dearly, but he couldn't look away from the lethal wound on Yukhei's neck. They'd shot and murdered him, in their home, in his home where he buried all his beloved ones. Why was everybody abandoning him? He felt rough, impatient hands grabbing him, forcing him to his feet, trying to get him out of here but he was fixed on his spot, eyes glued on his only and last friend. They killed him brutally with a single shot.

"Nana, my beautiful baby, please come back to me. Let me help you."

Jaemin blinked, looking at Jeno's hard, tight face with blurry eyes, then everything went black. There was utter darkness in his dream, the night empty, all his stars and moon having left him alone, and shooting of a bright star ceased him defenseless. His stomach was churning, mind reeling, and his skin was too hot he wanted to peel it off, to be as bare as in mother womb. This world was cruel and brutal, monsters inside the wall, monsters outside the wall, completely surrounded by beasts that wished to tear them apart. Once his parents promised to return while packing their stuff, walking out of the door of their home and never returned. Ever since that day, Jaemin knew nobody stayed forever, neither would he. But knowing you'd lose everyone didn't lessen the pain, especially losing the only, closest person that was beside him.

Gang fights were nothing new in Electric Station, and Yukhei was a victim of one, as Jaemin woke up in Jeno's room and learned about everything. They had to discard his corpse because they were in the middle of a brawl, and the fact that his friend couldn't even get a proper cremation hurt even more. He spent the days in Lee building, with King Jaehyun and his most trusted man, brother, Jeno fighting with the vigilantes that terrorised the city. He didn't see them next days, and it was the guards that told him young master left quickly after carrying him to the building. It was Yujin and Yena who accompanied him, but his grief was personal, aching for a dear friend he lost so suddenly. Whoever killed him must face a similar fate so that he could be at ease.

When Jeno returned with his brother and rest of men, Jaemin was beside Yujin, watching Jaehyun kiss his girlfriend and their daughter. Sliding to the corner, he looked at the dark eyes of wildness, splashes of redness shining on blue strands, and let out a sigh, reaching out to hug Jeno despite the blood and remnants of organs on his outfit. They had nobody else but each other to be all bare and open, sharing their pain and burden, even the blood of other people because fuck morals. Everything was okay until they didn't get hurt, this was how they needed to be in order to survive because this world was so cruel, yet so beautiful, when you had somebody to love and live for.

They walked to Jeno's room hand in hand, desperate for each other, and Jaemin prepared the bathtub, watching the latter undress, running a hand through his hair. After a moment of solemn, he also undressed and stepped into the tub stark naked. It was warm while hugging in water, washing each other with tenderness that they spared for nobody else, wiping every mark of shame, guilt and agony off, for they didn't need another burden to heave them down. Jeno's muscles nudged while cupping his wet face, taking in his features as if he was memorising a work of art, and their first kiss was made of fire amongst water, covering the air with steam that arose from where their mouths collided. That wasn't how he imagined it'd happen, but Jaemin was grateful for everything, for having Jeno beside him because nobody else ever came back for him. Only moon boy.

Jaemin kissed him again and again, in a cluster of voracious appetite, sitting on his thick thighs, brushing their wet chests. Jeno kissed even harder, wrapping around his waist, yanking at his hair, with tender rasp of lustiness. They loved and wanted each other, but most importantly, they needed one another. The unrelenting stream of water dampening their kiss, more ruthless, more lascivious, more sultry, because that's everything they needed, something they died for. Jeno was so hot against him, naked and unguarded, his lips blazing a trail of fire down the flesh of Jaemin's neck, teeth and tongue grazing the sensitive skin and he could only respond by craning his neck to give him more access. When he got too crazy, gasps and moans tingling in his mouth, Jaemin felt everything stop, and opened his low eyes to gaze at Jeno. Blue haired boy was just staring at him, a torch of flame burning deep in his hellholes. His hands were acidic from where they held Jaemin's waist, and he felt himself at ablaze.

"Forgive me for everything, for leaving you behind, for not returning sooner, for letting you down, for breaking my promise - everything, Nana. I was gone for a long time, and I can't make up for my absence and the pain it's brought, but I swear that each next day will be much better than yesterday."

Jaemin hugged his neck, pressing kisses into his wet, tight skin. "There's nothing to forgive," he said sadly, burying his own pain, because to love, he needed to value Jeno's decisions. His heart wouldn't fit anywhere if he didn't go after his dreams, and it was alright, despite all the suffering, that he returned by accomplishing his goal. They were no longer children and couldn't treat each other like one either, time to man up and take matters into hand. "I love you so much, Jeno, I've always loved you."

They kissed again, more fierce, more gentle, but as lovely as ever, melting in hot water, melding into each other. Jaemin held him closer than ever, closer than his blood, his life essence, because he couldn't endure another separation. After steamy make out in the bathroom, they dried themselves and went inside to dress up for a slumber. Jeno needed it desperately, and even if he had difficulty sleeping, he wasn't alone this time.

"Sit down," he told Jaemin, urging him to the edge of bed while grabbing the hairdryer. Running a hand through his locks, caressing the strands softly, Jeno proved that his penchant for blond hair hadn't changed. "Would you like to dye your hair as well?"

Jaemin tilted his head curiously, causing him to flick his chin. "What colour are you suggesting?"

"You'd amazing in every colour but I think you too should go blue..."

Jaemin snorted. "Just say that you want us to have same hair colour, loser."

Leaning down, Jeno bumped their foreheads, burning eyes looking at him as if to devour him anytime. How could he be so full of love and lust at the same time? "And what would you do about it, Nana?"

He looked down with warm cheeks, wiggling his bare toes as Jeno plugged in the device and began drying his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead after finishing. Holding his wrist, Jaemin pulled him down and raised on his knees to dry blue locks, smiling at the way dark roots appeared in tiny slash. Unlike last time they slept together with a gap, there was no distance anymore. Finally they met up where their hearts laid, and it was nowhere else but their home, Electric Station. Even as the bulleta rang out, people died on bridges, walls smelled of fumes, the city was the only place that offered safety and warmth when rest of world was full of dark and terror. It was home, because Jeno was beside him, hugging his body, kissing his face, his mouth, his cheeks, stroking his hair tenderly, running a hand down his chest and legs, admiring every inch of him as if Jaemin was his God.

It was home because sometimes it was a single person that felt as such, and for Jaemin, home was synonymous with Jeno.

Next day, they woke up in each other's arms, Jaemin pinched Jeno's cheeks, Jeno kissed him roughly, and they were all bickering while dressing up. Like old days, they went downstairs for breakfast, sitting on their old chairs, and none of it was conscious, just the way they smoothly flowed together. Upon seeing them, Jaehyun gave a long, deep breath like he was sick of them. "If you fucking consider breaking up again, I am breaking your legs as well."

"Why legs?" Jeno questioned, and he didn't have the old shiny smile and eyes while snickering with his brother, because he'd grown up. But it wasn't a bad thing, Jaemin could now only see that, people changed drastically, it didn't mean Jeno didn't care about them.

"So you can't ride your motorcycles again, obviously."

Jaemin arched a brow when Yujin smacked Jaehyun's arm, silencing him, but he'd already heard. Jeno was sending his brother a bad look, sick of his bullshit. Leaning in, he bumped his nose to the side of latter's face and gained his attention, pulling away to pout. "Since when do I have a motorcycle, Lee?"

"This was supposed to be a surprise but it's already ruined," Jeno caressed his cheek. "After breakfast, baby, I'll show you my present."

Jaemin bit down on his lip at the word baby, feeling his heart burn up, because this big, older Jeno was an experience he couldn't have missed out. Still lovely and tender, yet also so cocky, rough and hot. To think he couldn't even mention hugging without blushing back in the past made him smile at the memory, in awe of how sweet and adorable he used to be. Then he remembered their separation and his smile fell off, turning to his full plate, stomach churning in hunger, yet he didn't want to eat anything. He thought about his lonely, painful years, meeting Yukhei, gaining Jeno back, then losing Xuxi, who had died by the bullet of a traitor. Inside the rusty walls of tears, you never knew when and how death would come within, whether today from a stranger's hands, or a sly disease that took over your weak body. He remembered Mark's death. Both died the same way: miserable, like the truth of their life.

After breakfast, Jeno held his hand and they walked down to warehouse, passing by many bullets and bloody, big men, that all acknowledged them with a strict nod. In the warehouse, stood four more motorcycles, but two others were in bleak shadows, hidden under darkness. Jeno had repaired his dear motorcycle that survived the Waste, the scar of maul still present, special sign of him and his fight. The motorcycle he revealed next was sleek and bleak as well, and in white letters, the side of it read NANA, with a cute pouty face. Jaemin giggled, grazing his fingertips across the weird mark. Then he perked up and looked at Jeno, sending him a snarky gaze.

"How did you do that?" He asked, eyes already focusing on the dye bottles at the shelf. Making grabby hands, he flicked his fingers and gestured over Jeno's shoulder. "Give me those, Lee."

"Here we go," Jeno murmured, giving him the white dye, as if he sensed his aim. Feeling quite cocky, Jaemin told him to lead his motorcycle out while he was quickly painting. As sounds of him walking away echoed in the warehouse, he let out a deep sigh, touching the big maul on the surface, trying to understand how it must have felt like. He hadn't touched Jeno's scars on his body in order to give him privacy and respect his trauma, but it should be the same feeling, cold, cruel and painful. The Waste truly had raised monsters similar to itself. Moon boy was dead, and he was last spotted on top of this motorcycle, so he must be remembered and regarded as such. When Jeno came back and looked at the little full moon with his name written, he seemed confused, only then Jaemin realized it was all inside his head how he thought of him as the moon.

"Your eyes have always reminded me of it," he explained, though it was so little compared to what he actually deemed, but he couldn't express his thoughts, he didn't want to. Standing up, he began pulling the motorcycle to the door, followed by swift steps that caught up to him. Jeno stopped him by clasping Jaemin's hands in his own, bringing them in front of him, blowing into their intertwined fingers, gaze intense. He pressed his lips to the back of one of his hands gently, whispering hell notes into his knuckles, having become the demon outside of the wall, yet with his everything, he belonged to Jaemin. Through and through, always. Riding around the city, settled on respective motorcycles, helmets put on carefully, shooting each other one last ambitious look before lunging forward.

This time, he didn't chase the wind, the wind didn't follow him, it hid in a corner to not get crushed, because while competing, there were flakes of anger and betrayal. Overpowered by how disappointed and wrenched Jaemin had felt during three years, Jeno slowed down, did mistakes and was beaten in the end, though he seemed happier on his behalf for winning. They stood in front of the wall, over sixty meters, and Jaemin looked towards the East side, where Jeno had ridden away years ago. How agonizingly slow it felt like, as if even hours didn't pass but now looking back, it had all come and gone with the wind. Pain made it so hard to count years but the world always moved on, it didn't wait for anyone.

"You know we will never marry, right?" Jaemin said, locking eyes with Jeno who was leaning against his motorcycle, intently avoiding the door. How many times he wished never to pass through the wall, Jaemin wondered, imagining how horrible it must have been to regret the choice he made with freewill. To grow up, one must experience and learn from mistakes, but why did it have to be so loathsome? He smiled at Jeno softly. "You didn't make it for my sixteenth birthday."

"I'm sure I can convince you one day," Jeno responded, kissing his lips, then trailing down the column of his neck. Noticing how residents were watching from windows and ladders, Jaemin yanked at his hair and rushed him to back off, but couldn't stop melting when Jeno kissed him again, his parted mouth and flower-pink face in quick little pecks that oozed so much affection. Honestly, fuck him, hopefully soon. When they were back in the building, climbing upstairs to reach the rooftop, he stopped midway at the sight of a family face, Jungwoo with a teary, red face.

"Let him," Jaemin murmured, and Jeno gestured at the guards that'd surrounded the boy.

"Did you burn his corpse?" He asked, sniffling loudly, too uncaring of how he looked despite earning his life off it. In Jungwoo's dark, pitiful eyes, he saw his own reflection and memory of his lost friend that had long drowned. First Donghyuck, then himself, now Jungwoo, who had been forced to live without their beloved ones. He was the only lucky one to have his boy back, and he could never express his gratitude in thousand years.

"I'm so sorry. He loved you so much."

Jungwoo cried out, digging nails in his skin, wanting to take it off, but Jaemin enveloped him in a loose embrace. They weren't familiar with each other, and had one-sided beef, but their pain was mutual and it bonded them together, over a lanky, thoughtful and cute boy named Yukhei. Jungwoo stayed over at Lee building, ate dinner with them, and also gained the attention of Sicheng who was tagging around. At night, Jaemin cried in Jeno's arms, laying on his chest, wetting the collar of his shirt, but he was not pushed away, never. A sweet, rough yet exquisite hand tracking up and down his back in supportive circles, long legs tangled around his with strong calves and holding him in place, but it was the dark, low gaze of moon eyes that he was anchored to, couldn't even leave the port even when storms took it down. They would drown and die together, no more leaving each other behind, no more abandoning and staying alone.

Jungwoo had already left when they woke up in morning, and Jaemin sighed deeply while hugging Jeno. He could understand and feel his emotions, the shock of losing somebody you loved, and he wished he didn't. It was a feeling he never wanted to taste again. In time, things began settling down, with him completely moving to Lee building because Jeno's annoying, strict ass wouldn't let him return to his home again after the incident. Gangsters had tried to attack him, it was dangerous to be alone, because it's Electric Station in the end. There was always a sound ringing in hallways, sound of disturbance and proof of life going on. People died when he laid on his bed. So many people died here, but the population never lessened, because they were reproducing quite well, hence why discarding someone was affordable. There was always another one.

Jeno started sharing more detailed and hidden memories with him, when they were just laying over the bed, or chilling in rooftop. Jaemin bit hard and cracked his lollipop when he mentioned a boy who harassed him by rutting against him in underground city, but then he remembered Hyunbin. Jeno looked so mad when he told him everything: all the cornering, mental abuse, banging his door, molesting, the torture of living beside him in fear of getting caught off guard one day. I killed him, the triumph he had while saying this pushed Lee to the edge of shock, because nobody would expect Jaemin to harm anyone, but it wasn't just anyone. Some people just deserved to die, starting with child fuckers like Hyunbin.

"You said it was his father too, didn't you?"

Jaemin nodded, and even though Jeno turned his head to the side, he could see the tight purse of his lips. Next morning, he was gone, only the cold feeling of his sheet stroking Jaemin's orphan back, emptiness of his pillow touching the piteous hump of his shoulders. The day of separation infiltrated his mind, wretched memories of three years biting on his fingertips, making him numb while pulling the sheets off. He was again leaning the headstone of the tomb he was buried alive when Jeno left three years ago. Where was he? Where did he go now? He wouldn't even go to bathroom without informing him, because he knew how scared Jaemin was to never see him again. Running out of the room, yelling at anyone that crossed his path, asking everyone where the fuck was Jeno, all felt like a fever dream, one he wasn't allowed to wake up from unless his moon boy returned.

Come back and rise the sun, come back and wet the dryness of my throat, come back with your wind that's always chasing you. It was Sicheng who grabbed his arms and shook his body, and his face was blurry and out of place, because Jaemin was having violent tremors. He was saying something but Jaemin's ears were deaf until the only voice of spring he wanted to hear returned. Having pitied how lorn and vulnerable he must have looked, they pulled him in a room, forced him down to sit over a board, but his mind was blurry until he could feel familiar sense of home on his hands. Where did he go? Why did he leave him behind? Didn't they promise to never abandon each other once again?

Small pangs biting deep in his chest, stealing his breath, chaining him to the pain of his Jeno, his dear Jeno. He wouldn't leave him, fuck everything, he wouldn't abandon him again. Because Jaemin had been a kid once, destitute and orphan, attached to a boy who opened his arms in urn of safety, and it became everything he had. Such sickness for loving someone so bad, to the point there were purple marks all over his body for skipping meals and feeding very little, or perhaps they were simple ways of his inner emotions showing up on his flesh. Hearing Jeno's voice was similar to the way sun would shine through dark clouds, going straight to his head, and Jaemin sucked in a deep breath, his sight coming back. To see his moon running with a worried expression, blood on black attire, violence on his features, but he was back, no matter who he'd killed just now.

"Baby," he whispered, crouching in front of Jaemin and cupping his knees with warm hands, squeezing his skin to snap him back to reality. "My beautiful Nana, why are you crying? Did something happen?"

"He was fucking looking for you everywhere," Sicheng stated angrily, grumbling about lovesick children and walking out to leave them alone. Painful crack in Jeno's eyes proved he had no idea one moment of his absence could reduce Jaemin to a scared mess, but it wasn't important. He was back.

"I'm so sorry," he said, leaning forward to lay his head on Jaemin's lap, who grabbed his head with shaky hands and hugged him loosely, though his hold was rough. "I don't know how to make up for everything I've caused you."

"Just stay with me. I don't care for anything else. Don't forsake me again."

Jeno sobbed, second time he ever cried in Jaemin's arms, and his heart broke a thousand times more, because they didn't deserve this. Only thing his dreamer ass wanted was exploring the rest of the world but it cost them everything they had: their years, friends, family. He'd known this since beginning, that it wouldn't have a good ending the moment Jeno drove outside, but he'd been sent back to his arms. How could he let him away once more? They did not leave each other's side all day, cuddling in the bed, trying calming down, hoping that as long as they were here, hesitant light of hope remained. Only after his sobs entirely died down, Jeno told what happened, the death of his predator landlord. Jaemin wanted to smack his own head for failing to notice before, because of course this cruel boy would go after him since he specifically asked about the father.

"I hope he suffered enough," he mumbled, looking at their intertwined hands, how fitting and pretty they looked despite individual ugliness. Some people were made and fated for each other, and without a doubt, gods of this forsaken, destroyed world knew what they were doing when Jaemin and Jeno met while watching Lee men beating down a few guys at the hall. From the moment they laid eyes on one another, with moon eyes shining happily and gesturing at his blond hair, with him grimacing and turning around, but he couldn't escape from the small hands that grabbed his. The moment they held hands, their destiny was written, and he was grateful. In this city enclave of poverty and cruelty, love was a precious diamond he couldn't come across very often, and they were supposed to take care of it as such. They failed, not once but many times, but opportunities still existed, laying bare ahead of them.

No more losing and crying and dreaming of things that were out of their reach. It was time to find solace in each other, because there was nothing else inside and outside of Electric Station.

After three years, they celebrated Jeno's eighteen birthday together, squeezed side to side at the dining hall where everybody had filled in. Jaehyun's eyes were a little teary for having his brother back, because none of them imagined his return. But Jeno had come back for them, and the old, wretched bracelet around his wrist was a sign of it. Sometimes Jaemin would curl his fingers around and hold his wrist to feel the sensation of jewelry that was carrying all the burden, memories and pain of its owner. Somehow, it helped him understand and empathize with Jeno better. They would ride around the city sometimes, racing to beat each other, getting overly ambitious that angry kisses later was inevitable, but not that they were whining. Having promised to go all the way fully at Jaemin's birthday, because that hot, big guy in leather garments and eyes of moon was a gentleman like that.

One day at breakfast, Sicheng winked at him and said he was fucking Jungwoo. Feeling as if his dead friend was betrayed and played with, Jaemin didn't even bat an eye, and just stared forward. Yukhei had saved up years of hardwork just to have a chance with his dear, childhood lover, but apparently Jungwoo was going around fucking anyone with no respect to his ex. Then it him hard, remembering how he also used to sleep around with so many men after Jeno, and he wasn't even a sex worker like brown haired boy, who had to do it to continue his life. He felt ashamed and horrible for the way he thought, and begged Sicheng to save him from the prostitution club, telling how much he'd suffered since childhood. He was the right-hand of Jaehyun, and his old bedmate, he could do it.

"That's not my decision to make, Jaemin," he said, rolling eyes, but it was obvious the idea was sinking in. "I'll ask Jungwoo if that's what he wants, rest is up to him. Taking him out of the club is the easiest part."

"He is a prideful boy. Don't hurt his feelings, Sicheng."

He flicked his nose with fake anger. "Stop ordering me around, blondie. Do you think you're unstoppable for being young master's lover?"

"Kind of."

Jeno's attachment to Jaemin had always been known, as he wouldn't leave him alone, always chasing and pulling other kid to places, screaming out how much of a good, amazing, cute friend Jaemin was in the middle of buildings. Residents would snicker at them discreetly, mocking the way they acted so dumbly childish, because a child wasn't supposed to be one in this shitty place. A kid was supposed to be a prostitute, a spouse, a maid, but never the simple nature of his essence. Perhaps that's what made him stay with Jeno despite all the reasons to walk away, because he was radiant, shamelessly himself, full of dreams and innocence that didn't fit the aura of Electric Station. Jaemin had also been so cold and quiet, having experienced the cruelty of life first-hand at such young age, and it was always his moon boy that guided him through darkness.

That day, when Jeno engulfed him in a tight embrace and kissed his neck, Jaemin thought about his parents. His mother had been caressing his hair one day, when his father was cooking food in the kitchen, the precious smell of homemade soup, and she had laughed at the way he whined about pain in the ass Jeno. He'll never stop bothering me, won't he? He thinks he owns everything because his father is the Master!"

"He is a lovely kid just like you, Nana. Why are you so against the idea of befriending him?" His mother had asked curiously.

"He does not know the hardships we go through," Jaemin had grumbled, fiddling with his fingers. "He is only so happy because he lives a good life."

She had tsked, turning him around in her lap, kissing his nape slowly. "Everyone suffers from something, my Nana. Everyone lacks something in life, whether it be cash, happiness or a good family. We have a home and warm food to keep our company, don't we? Not everybody has that, and so many people die from starvation everyday. But fate of a man, who never takes pleasure from a gentle heart's love, is just as bad. Those people never find any meaning in life because they never seek for it, they don't know power of love. Don't be like one of them, always open your heart to embrace the warmth of others. So what if Jeno does not lack money and safety? Perhaps his heart is beating for something his belongings cannot provide. Not everybody who has money is a good person like him, and it's a treasure you should value."

"Do you think he's good?"

She'd smiled. "Of course. He spreads love and mirth wherever he goes, and I am so happy that he's around you. Don't think I haven't noticed how much more you've been smiling lately."

He'd blushed, crying out mom, but she kept giggling. Jaemin shivered in Jeno's lap, thinking about how long it'd been since they were gone, without a doubt, they were killed in the Waste. He imagined an ugly, monstrous creature mauling his parents to death, the way they'd tried to do to Jeno, but he managed to survive. Like his moon boy, they also chased their dreams, and perhaps it was time to forgive them, because nothing else remained. He looked at sleeping boy, and smiled to himself, finally feeling the first spring sprout. Beauty of love belonged to the time it bloomed in heart, and it was every day for them. He still didn't eat much, there were still bruises on his body, but healing never came so easy. To this day, he still had to rip the fear of losing Jeno out of his chest, but it was so early for this, not in the right mental condition to fix himself. What did fixing mean, anyways? He wasn't broken, he never had been, Jaemin rightfully mourned and yearned for the only boy who ever made him smile and hold his hand.

When his eighteenth birthday came, he was waken up with wet pecks pressed all over his face, causing him to grimace and escape, but Jeno caught him nevertheless. Wrapping arms around his waist, tickling his belly, kissing the side of his shoulder, it was the best morning he could give Jaemin. Funny how he'd imagined facing him as a man, now they both were, and so many things changed yet Jaemin could never dream of this lingering touch, wet lips that hummed across his skin, he could never be satisfied with what his mind served him, because reality was always bigger than expected.

"I guess you still won't marry me," Jeno said against his neck.

"You need more practice until reaching the final form of proposal."

Jeno smiled, stretch of his plump lips evident on his flesh, and it drove him insane. How dare he be so damning handsome and attractive? "I can bring the moon to your feet and you still wouldn't accept my proposal."

"A promise is a promise," Jaemin whispered into his lips, staring at each other's dark, intense pits, their gaze low and deep. "You missed my sixteenth birthday and the chance to marry me."

"Marriage or not, I still love you."

Jaemin smiled, and Jeno mirrored, the lack of beam in his eyes still hurt, how much he had to give up on his own, but that wasn't something he should be blamed for. He did what others couldn't and returned alive, one flesh, from the horrors of outer world that only offered death. His mother had been right, in the end, moon boy had a desire nothing could provide, and he even stepped on Jaemin to persuade his dreams. After a heated make out session, they changed clothes and went upstairs for breakfast. Yujin surprised him with a gift, a leather motorcycle garment, which he later put on to take a ride around the wall with Jeno who convinced him to spend a few hours until it was night. They drove with the wind and earth, the small area within the wall, their prison, their home, their safe haven. His safe heaven was nobody but moon boy.

The birthday party in his name was embarrassing and unnecessary, but Jaemin still consumed the giant strawberry lollipop he was gifted. He didn't eat a slice of his own cake, which earned him a pointed look from Jeno, that tried so hard not to talk about his eating habits. But after the last fiasco, he couldn't, just leaving him to be, that's really all he needed. Hours of festivity and drunkenness, familiar family remembrances that he'd forgotten over the course of years, but it all stayed behind. Sighing deeply, looking around the room, eyes lingering on everybody, all of them he was used to see in the building, then Jeno. His boy was watching him with glassy, auld eyes.

"Won't you show me the surprise already?"

"If that's what you want," Jeno said, standing up and reaching out a hand like a gentleman. Unlike his speculations, they didn't go to rooftop, not even to their room for sex. Instead, Jeno led them downstairs, passing through the alley that went up to the wall. Only when they approached closer, he noticed the ladder that dangled from the top of wall and halted rightfully. Were they going up?

"Are you sure about this?" He questioned, feeling more awkward and unsure, because what would he feel like when he was standing at the top of their lonely, wasted world that was wiped out by an apocalypse? Would he desire going outside too? Would he see what Jeno saw out there despite all its unknown misery and mystery?

"It's alright if you don't want it," Jeno instantly said, cupping his cheek, but he'd prepared this. Jaemin couldn't dip it when it was just a wall, nothing else, just a concrete jungle that's sixty meters tall. He learned that climbing such a high wall was a real torture, not even mentioning how to go down, but once he reached the top, crawled to the middle of cold surface, the wind hit him hard. A sound of woosh, the golden sand flying with the night breeze, expanding so insanely, scarily big even beyond the horizon. Jeno had said how it was a miracle to find a forest with trees and green out there, because it was all this, nothing but sand that'd long buried the bones and memories of old people. Looking down at their miserable world, reminding himself that's all it's, all that existed, all that the world offered.

In this vacancy of nowhere, there were no dreams, no hopes, no goals, only solitude. Sitting at the edge of wall, he watched the way sand flakes flowed here and there, trapped in the same motion, because there was nothing else. It felt so vacant and apathetic that Jaemin wanted to cry. He dealt with pain, longing, yearning, but never in his life he tasted raw feeling of isolation. It was horrifying, terrible to even look, imagining an entire world filled with this, because that's how it was. He never wanted to see beyond this.

"Are you scared?" Jeno asked, squeezed next to him, their hands intertwined. Jaemin looked up from the ground and stared ahead, where stars vanished and this desert went on beyond the sight.

"Were you? When you rode into, when you saw nothing but sand, when you only felt its vacancy?"

"No." Jeno sounded honest. "I was never scared of the sand that I'd watched for years from rooftop. It is not the desert and sand that scares me, it's the monsters within."

Jaemin shuddered, because how different perceptives, how distinctive points of view they held. Let alone stepping into this lonely misery, he wouldn't even come here again, to witness the emptiness of world that just kept spinning for nothing. "Do you think the monsters would ever come here?"

"I don't know. But if they did, we'd learn how to deal with them." Jeno tucked a strand of hair to the back of his ear, pressing a soft, tender kiss near his sideburns. His single kiss erased the weird tingle of desert and filled him with burning sensation, making him spin his head and slot their lips together against the brutal existence of world that fought to take them down. Moaning into his mouth, Jeno cupped his face, parting roughly, and Jaemin was slowly perching on his thighs, desperate for more, more shocking touches, more ablaze kisses.

"You think I'm the moon, but are you aware the fact that you're the entire sky, Jaemin? You are my whole world, beyond this sight, beyond this horizon, beyond all of this. While in the Waste, all alone and hungry, barely standing upright, there had been only one road for me to go onward: the path to you."

Jaemin gulped dryly, as dry as the desert that expanded beneath their foot, and kissed him again, to make him shut up. He couldn't stand the memory of past anymore, he didn't want any of it. Jeno was here, safe and sound, and he didn't need to prove again and again how much he wanted to come back to him. How stupid they both had been, treating each other the ever pitiful, painful way, pushing one another away when in fact they should have known nothing else mattered when it came to them. They were Jaemin and Jeno, for fuck's sake, two small boys that ran through crowded, rusty ladders and halls of Electric Station, picking up fights with random kids that crossed their path, fleeing the scene before their disguise could be discovered.

Smiling into his mouth, Jaemin yanked at blue hair of freedom, a sign of Jeno achieving his goal and reaching his dreams, despite the bittersweet ending. In the end, he'd done what he wished to do all the time, so did Jaemin, by staying in the place he called home. If they both didn't believe in their respective ideals, they would have followed each other to outside, or stayed together inside the city, but they both listened to what their hearts told. There was no way they could be happy without following the path of their hearts. There were so many things upcoming, perhaps another apocalypse, another brawl, another suffering, but he promised himself in the moonglow of naked night, that there never would be another separation. Once he was too coward to follow Jeno, but not again, they would die and reborn together, as the latter had promised.

"You've reborn in my arms, Lee," he mumbled, caressing his face, his hair, kissing every inch of his beautiful frame. "I shall do the same."

If there was anyone gawking towards the surface of wall, they would have seen two naked boys, having sex against the cold, against the underlying menace of Waste, threatening to suck them in if they continued to be so bold and brave. But the world blacked out at the moment, just the blue laying under him, then on top of him, always on top and inside of Jaemin. Separating was now a crime, and despite being two ferocious crimals, it was the only rule to remain safe. Only when their time ended, that last breath of life was at the top of their tongue, separation would happen. Otherwise, they were bound and bond to stay side by side.

Happiness was a cluster of pain. The skin grew over the injury in a way a young tree grew around its past wounds. The root stayed the same but brunches stretched out fresh. Every part of Jaemin, finally, came to a peace, with his darkened and largened full moon embracing him from each bleeding side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading. Share your thoughts with me. Take care and stay safe.

**Author's Note:**

> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.qa/jaenosmaid)


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